


Scars

by The_Peddler



Series: Bruises [2]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Romance, Sequel, Violence, newtmas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 83,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Peddler/pseuds/The_Peddler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to my first Newtmas fiction 'Bruises'. If you haven't read it yet, do so before reading this.</p><p>Years go by, and scars run deep. Thomas and Newt's new life together is not as smooth running as they had both hoped. Now, with Alby's release date looming over them, will their love be strong enough to withstand the coming storm?</p><p>NOTE: Re-edited Chapter 6  on 06/03/15. If you have read it before this date, please re-read it for the sake of the plot. Thank you!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Work No Play

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here we go again :D
> 
> This is a sequel, so if you haven't read the first part 'Bruises' please do so before plunging into this.
> 
> To all those who read Bruises, here we go again! Hope you like it, I got so many wonderful comments from Bruises, and I want this to match it. :D
> 
> Here we go.... @apeddle90

"See ya tomorrow Thomas!"

"Bye Harriet" He replied with a smile.

Closing the door to let Harriet out at the end of that day, Thomas let a contented sigh escape his lips as he bolted the lock. The Homestead had celebrated its anniversary since its re-opening its doors to the public four years ago, and it was busier than it had ever been before. The residents of Gladon had gladly welcomed the coffee shop's revival, and rushed to support its resilient proprietor. 

It had taken almost a year, and a lot of laboured hours to get the establishment back to opening standards. Keeping the same long opening hours, Thomas converted the unoccupied upstairs floor into a bar and dance area for private functions. The ground floor closing early evening, whilst the upper floor hosted night-time events. This new venture proved incredibly lucrative, and required a larger staff than before. Minho rejoined as soon as he could, the Asian hated his job as a personal trainer, and Thomas rejoiced at their reunion; he had missed spending time with his friend. Between work and home they never found time, now they worked together again, it was like reliving old times. 

The two friends ran a smooth operation, Thomas running the ground floor during the day, and Minho organisation and running night events upstairs. The local university supplied plenty of students looking for work. Harriet was an archaeology student, tall, dark-skinned, with jet black hair cut almost to her scalp. She was a hard worker, and had great rapport with the customers. Though she was quiet and kept mainly to herself, Thomas found her easy to work with. Sonya was a beautiful, tall long-legged photography student, her long hair sun-kissed blonde and skin of milk white. She was well suited to help run the night events, brave and outgoing, she ran the floor with confident prowess.

Thomas has kept the downstairs decor as close to what it had been before as his memory allowed; him in furniture. The process was painstakingly long, finding every little piece to fit the massive puzzle that had been burnt down, but he had enjoyed every second. What the ground floor had in nostalgic splendor, the upstairs had in resplendent elegance. Jet black granite bar, speckled with glittering grey. Three chandeliers suspended above it shimmered, emitting a gentle glow across the room. High tables just large enough to rest glasses on dotted the floor area, leaving an empty space at the back for buffets and dancing. The bar boasted an even larger range of liquor than before. Thomas stole Darnell from a rival bar, the handsome twenty one year old had impressive bar skills, and made dazzling cocktails to order with theatrical confidence. 

Ascending up the stairs he found the night-shift gang preparing for a 21st birthday party. Sonya was setting up a table at the back, wiping flute glasses and laying out complimentary first drinks. The two floors were extremely diverse, and that was their selling point. Rustic and comfortable downstairs, and glitzy and frivolous above - no expense spared. Darnell was busy at the bar preparing his gear and he found Minho at a nearby table, running through what Thomas presumed was his checklist. 

"All set?" He inquired casually as he approached his friend.  He glanced around the room, his eyes always ending up on the same spot. Nearly five years ago a good friend of his had burned to death in-front of Newt's eyes. They both knew who the perpetrator was, but they couldn't pin it on him. Aris has been a good person, a cheeky shit for sure, but with a good heart. Thomas missed him dearly, and even with the radical restoration, the man and that spot still haunted his memories.

Minho looked round oblivious to his thoughts, spanning the room, the usual look of confidence on his face. "Yeah man all is good here, DJ is due any minute to set up, food is ready, yada yada. We got this Thomas go home, its nearly half seven as it is."

Thomas didn't argue, saying a quick farewell to Sonya and Darnell, he grabbed his stone coloured jacket before heading out. Nearing the end of January, the cold winter night bit at him as he strolled briskly down the road. It was now a half hour walk home, but he enjoyed the walk, it gave him time to wind down after the long busy days before returning to his nest. Newt had invested in a silver Honda Jazz, but due to his turbulent work hours, Thomas never took it in case the forensic needed it urgently. Even more so now, as Newt was moving more out into the field, and could have to go anywhere at anytime.

He checked his phone, the cold air instantly biting at his fingertips, but he hated wearing gloves, finding them too much of a hindrance. As he expected, there was a message waiting for him from Newt, as there always was every day.

_Hey Tommy,_

_Works is going on longer that I had hoped, don't wait on me for dinner._

_Should be home by 10._

_Newt xx_

Thomas sighed, his breathe visible as it escaped his lips and rose into the frigid air. When they had first moved in together, they always found time to spend when it was just them. Now their time together seemed to be constantly dwindling down to nothing, and it had begun to scare him. Of course the love was still there, everything they did was for them, but the passion had all but gone. 

Work had taken over both their lives, each of them individually constantly working long hours away from home - leaving not much time when they were both there together. Newt had taken a promotion, now working out in the field - investigating crime scenes and collecting evidence. Thomas hated it, the work was grim and sometimes dangerous, and the hours were long, random and arduous. He saw the affect it took on the blonde, his limp returning every now and then, but Newt refused to accept it. They had argued heatedly over it many times, but Newt would only ask him what he would do if he was asked to give up The Homestead. That always shut him up. 

He wished their relationship was more like Minho and Teresa's. Minho was always talking to him about what they did that weekend, where they went to lunch that day, how they had planned a holiday that summer. He was pleased for his sister and his best friend, but he couldn't help but feel jealous of them. His mind reeled as he walked home, how did they do it? How did they find the time? Maybe it was different, Newt's work was radical, sapping the life out of the blonde, but Thomas suspected there was more to it.

His freezing fingers worked nimbly to text the reply so they could hide back inside his pockets.

_Hey no problem,_

_See you tonight x_

The first line was a lie, he hoped the second one wouldn't be. It wouldn't be the first time Newt had pulled an all-nighter.

* * *

 

Upon reaching home he swiftly set about making himself comfortable. Changing out of his work clothes he donned more comfortable clothing; grey jogging bottoms and a simple dark green tee. Glancing at the clock he saw Newt would not be home for yet another hour or so, and decided to risk it and order a takeaway for two, hoping there would be enough mouths to feed. If nothing else, cold pizza was always welcome at breakfast.

Relaxing on the sofa, he thought about Newt, the way he overworked all the time, constantly occupied with it even when at home; researching old cases, or reading up on new scientific findings. It drove Thomas insane, but there had to be a reason for the blonde's recent obsession. He had always been ambitious, but even since he took the promotion last year he had taken it to an extreme. Thomas thought with a heavy heart he knew what the reason was.

He glanced down at his right hand, a small scar that would never fade marked the back of his hand. The blade that made that scar spurred a hellish spiral of events that stemmed from Thomas' own volatile need for revenge. Alby had been Newt's boyfriend then, and he had hurt Newt - badly. Thomas in a mad state of anger took the fight to Alby, but all he came away with was sore knuckles, and that scar. 

From that moment Alby wanted nothing more then for them to suffer, to see his boyfriend and the man who took him away burn, and so the Homestead went up in smoke at the dark sacrifice of a poor manipulated Aris. Newt had barely escaped with his life for the second time, and Thomas himself finished that night bruised and bloodied. Alby ended up with six years imprisonment for what he did to Newt, and that sentence was nearing its end. Knowing Alby he would be on his best behaviour inside, and Thomas dreaded the day of his release.

If he dreaded it he knew that Newt must be terrified of it. That had to be why he buried himself in his work, to forget it, or to take his mind of it, to maintain a strong exterior even though he was probably wrought with fear inside. But Thomas saw, he saw how Newt looked when the mail was delivered, how he always ignored it for Thomas to deal with.

He wished that it was him Newt would confide in, to let protect him, instead of his work. That was what he was there for after all. Nevertheless, no matter what he did, one day the letter would come, and Thomas would have to open it, and relay the news to his boyfriend. It was a day that he wished would never come.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares haunt Thomas' sleep, and they are getting more frequent as time goes on. Each one worse than the one before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> Okay, more back story really, not much progress so I am mega sorry. I didn't even plan to write any of this - it just kinda came. Gives a bit of back story to Newt though, and I wanted to give a bit more history into his job. After all it should be more interesting than running a coffee/bar!  
> Plus they needed this time together.  
> @apeddle90

Alby sneered at him, his face looking down over him, laughing at him wickedly. All around him fire seared, a ring of lightning hot flames licked at him from all sides. The heat from them was so intense he could feel it in the air. His skin was baked dry, eyes sore, lips cracked, his throat void of moistness. He tried to yell, to lash out at the looming vision in front of him, but nothing came out. He was glued to the spot, unable to move, as if shackled to the ground like a prisoner of hell waiting for judgement.

Alby's eyes were wide, milky white surrounded midnight black pupils in a crazed stare. It laughed, the demonic cackle erupting out of a cruel mouth, echoing throughout the sizzling air. Suddenly Alby's eyes rolled upward into his skull as his features began to morph hideously. The face convulsed as it distorted into its new shape. It continued to laugh as the chocolate skin began to melt away, falling off to reveal skin of a paler colour. Brown hair grew out of the lightening scalp, and in a blink of an eye it was now Aris' face in front of him. The laughter morphed into blood curdling shrieks of agony, Aris' accusing eyes filled with tremendous pain and sorrow.

Thomas fell to his knees, clasping his hands over his ears, willing for the noise to stop. _Please stop! I'm sorry! Please make it stop!_

But it didn't stop. The surrounding flames leapt upon the vision, devouring it. Aris' skin bubbled into hideous boils before streaming away in bloody rivers leaving an unclean skull. Bits of grey gristle and bloody cartilage hung on to the ivory bone. Empty eye sockets, each a tormenting dark abyss, bore into him, into his very soul. The screams continued, more severe than ever, they seemed to be coming from inside his brain and he couldn't escape.  _Please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Have mercy!_ The deathly skull did not have mercy. It opened its mouth with an evil snarl, and then it was rushing towards him. Black eyes somehow burning, its mouth open - bearing down upon him with gnashing rotting teeth.

Thomas sat bolt upright in his bed, his heart thrummed a million beats per second as he stared wild-eyed at the darkness around him. His body temperature was uncomfortably hot, and he threw the covers off of him before stripping off his vest top. He sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, letting his body calm down from its night terrors. His pants were loud and strained, filling the silent night air of his bedroom. The dreams had been getting worse and worse recently, and their frequency was only increasing. Now it was almost every night, but this one had been the worst by far. 

He ran a hand through his hair, it came back glistening, moist with sweat. He let his eyes close, focusing on calming his breathing. The night air was cool and felt good on his skin. Glancing at the clock he saw it had just gone three in the morning. The vision from his dream was slowly fading, his consciousness taking over in its place. Ever since re-opening The Homestead he had been having the same dream, but never as vivid as the one he had now. Before he dreamt of the melting faces once or twice a month - now it was three of four times a week, and they were draining the life out of him. He jumped as a hand abruptly hugged around his chest, flat palm resting over his now steadier heart. 

"Hey Tommy, its only me shhhh."

Newt's voice soothed him instantly, and he let himself relax into the body that held him from behind. Newt hugged him around his chest. Laying his head on Thomas' shoulder, he placed delicate kisses down his neck. Thomas let out a deep sigh of relief, reaching down he pulled up one of Newt's hands, kissing its knuckles before resting his cheek there. 

"Same dream?"

Thomas shook his head. "Same nightmare. Only worse."

"Do you want anything?"

Thomas turned around to lie back down, pulling Newt gently with him. "Just you." He pulled the blonde close to his chest, holding him tight - afraid to let go. These moments always reminded him how special their relationship was. No matter how hard they worked, or how busy they were - they always had time for each other when it mattered.

He knew that the death of his friend would haunt him, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with. He had not expected almost daily nightmares to replay in his head like a horror movie on repeat. He saw it as a weakness. He had not even been there to witness the death, that sat heavily in Newt's memory, not his. So why could he picture it so vividly?

"Hey Newt? Do you ever dream of what you saw... when Aris died?"

Silence fell over them for a few moments, and Thomas started to assume Newt had fallen back to sleep in their embrace before the blonde spoke up in a small voice.

"Sometimes."

"Is it bad? How do you deal with it?"

Newt ran a hand through Thomas' tussled hair, his hand stopped to rest on his nape. "Its not a matter of dealing with it Tommy. I cope. When you've been to as many autopsies as I have, you learn to distance yourself from what you see. Its... not easy though."

"How do we stop the dreams?"

"You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened Tommy. It was never your fault."

"I-I can't."

 "I know its hard." Newt cooed quietly. Thomas just nodded in response, clutching onto Newt's t-shirt. "Let them fall." The blonde encouraged him lovingly, and Thomas did. He cried, letting out all the tension that he hadn't even realised he had been holding inside of him. He sobbed for minutes, soaking Newt's clothing, he felt silly but he knew it didn't matter in his present company. He could expose this side of him to Newt, knowing that he wouldn't be judged.

"I had a case a few months back." Newt began once Thomas had calmed back down, tiredness seeping back into his bones. In a strange way he always enjoyed Newt's stories from work. The blonde would never tell them on request, only when he felt the time was right, and Thomas was happy to wait. It was the way Newt dealt with what he saw on a  day to day basis.

"The victim was a woman, a professional lawyer. She was driving home to her family when another car crashed into the back of hers - not by accident. Bruised from the crash, she was dragged from the wreck to the side of the road. There, they beat her, raped her, and took all of her money and jewellery. That was where she was found, still alive - still fighting for breath."

"She survived?" Thomas implored.

"Yes, if you could call it living." Newt said coldly. "She is in hospital now, in a vegetated state, kept alive by a machine. Her husband stays by her side, praying for her to come back to him."

"How do you know all of this Newt?"

A deep heartfelt sigh sounded the room. "I got too involved. You see, to top it all off, she was pregnant. They were unable to save the baby. We never found who did those wicked things to her - all we had was DNA and car paint that had rubbed off onto hers. Neither proved to be solid leads, and we had to stop the investigation. I was so angry, and so sad for her, for her husband, and for the dead baby. It was something I'd never felt before, and it took over my life."

Thomas remembered, it had been the darkest period of their relationship. Newt would stay all night at work, looking up criminal records and car dealerships, to try and find any tenuous link to a possible suspect. He hardly ate, survived on coffee, and was so full of anger and spite it was like he was a different person. They had argued a lot, Newt lashing out at every little thing - Thomas unable to understand the situation, begging for Newt to open up to him.

"Don't let these dreams do that to you Tommy."

"Do you still see her?"

"Yes. Once a week I bring her new flowers. You see Tommy, with most victims its already too late. All I can do is find the person who killed them. But her - she still fights, she's still a life form."

Thomas heart swelled with pride for his boyfriend. The man who sat behind a microscope, tormented by his abusive lover, and faced with the possibility of never walking again was gone. Now he was braver than he was, a crime scene investigator, on the front line when other people would run away. Thomas knew however. He saw the delicate soul buried behind concrete walls. Newt would never admit it, but his eyes spoke a thousand words, and Thomas felt like he could read them all.

"Newt?"

"Yes?

"Is that why you're still staying so late at work all the time? Trying to find her attacker?"

Newt tensed momentarily, his hand stopped stroking Thomas' neck. "Yes Tommy. I'm sorry, I've tried not to, but it just takes over. I owe her justice."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was our duty to apprehend her assaulter... we failed."

"You can't solve every crime."

Silence fell over them again, neither of them wanting to ruin their heartfelt talk with arguments that had already divided them in the past. Newt at least did not seem angry or upset, his hand continuing its caressing motions, sending Thomas slowly into sleep.

"I know that what I'm doing isn't right Thomas. All I'm saying is I can't help it - I went in too deep and now I can't get out. I just don't want the same thing to happen to you over what happened in the past."

Thomas always found his proper name strange on the blonde's tongue, it either meant seriousness, anger, or what he found was the worst - distance. He felt calm knowing this time it was the foremost. He tightened his grip on Newt, holding their bodies close together. In a way he was glad he had had the nightmare, otherwise he would have gone to sleep in an empty bed, and woken up in an empty bed. This way he got this precious time with his boyfriend.

"Just promise me you won't break your back figuring it out Newt, and I won't let my dreams take over. Deal?"

Newt smiled a soft smile as he brought their lips together in a slow, dragged out kiss. "Deal Tommy."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is too wacky, or gritty or maybe even pointless? I dunno.
> 
> Newt's gonna be a bit of a complex. Tough one minute, terrified the next. Just to clarify he is one tough cookie - but we all have one thing that never fails to get under our skin. For him that is defiantly Alby - can't really blame him either. Oh and I guess the need for justice! :D
> 
> But we'll see all that in future chapters.


	3. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas enjoys a surprise morning with Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm not being very regular updating this, I am very very very sorry!

His demonic dreams prevented Thomas from getting any real sleep, only dozing lightly until his alarm brought him crashing back into reality. He woke up feeling groggy, his mind and body not quite refreshing enough during the nocturne hours. He remained still with his head on his pillow, the beginnings of a headache formulating at the front of his skull. The morning light shone through the windows far too brightly, and it took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust enough for him to open them.

Despite his hungover-like state, under the covers felt warm and comfortable, a safe vanguard against the cold air that surrounded him. He dragged his arm over to the bed side table, clearing the alarm that read 9.00 from his mobile phone. Stifling a yawn he rolled away from it towards the middle of the bed. It had been a long time since he had woken before Newt, and even longer since the blonde was still in bed waiting to say good morning; the disappointment never failed to arise within him.

He pushed his face into Newt's pillow, breathing in deeply,he inhaled the familiar musky scent of its usual occupier. The queen sized bed felt far too big and vacant and Thomas forced himself to pull the covers off of him. The cool air attacked him immediately, making him shiver in response. He tugged down the sleeves of his top before getting up out of bed to go to relieve himself in their en-suite bathroom.

Their small house was spacious and decorated in a homely manner. Minho's old flat soon felt cramped and restricting, and as soon as Newt's promotion and Thomas' reopening got underway, they found themselves able to afford a bigger, and all together nicer place. Their master bedroom boasted a walk in wardrobe large enough for both their modest needs, neither being overly fussed on labels or brands. A second smaller bedroom allowed enough space for a double bed and a wardrobe. Enough space for guests, or more specifically, when Minho and/or Teresa were too drunk to drive themselves home after one of their small gatherings. Both bedrooms led into a wide corridor, a utility room and general bathroom gracing the opposite room.

The end of the corridor led downstairs to what Newt called their 'reception' room, Thomas saw it as a slightly larger than usual hallway, big enough for a dresser and shelving unit for their miscellaneous items. A handy place he saw for an umbrella stand and somewhere to keep their keys and mail. Another corridor led parallel to the staircase, away from the front door. A framed gap in the wall on the right lead to a large living-room, all creams and beige. A large corner settee big enough to seat eight people took up most of the room. On the opposite wall a large flat television screen hung on the opposite wall, connected to the latest games system. The only other furniture consisted of a glass coffee table, and a dark mahogany bookcase for Newt's books and Thomas' CDs and games.

At the back of the house sat an open planned kitchen come dining room. Their small and sadly neglected garden peeked in through the large glass doors, and the light wood furnishings gave the place a country kitchen feel. Overall Thomas and Newt had re-done what they had done to Minho's place, combined themselves together to create something simple, but stylish in a way that suited them both. 

Exiting the bathroom, bladder emptied and body washed, Thomas got changed into his work clothes. The Homestead forced no real uniform onto its staff, just smart yet casual. Today Thomas went for his default dark brown, long-sleeved v-neck t-shirt, dark blue jeans and pearly-white clean converse. On the left hand side of his chest sat a small printed icon of a coffee cup and a liqueur glass clinking together, the words 'drinks manager' written elegantly underneath.

He was just drying off his thick hair when he heard the noise of clattering plates from downstairs. _Newt?_ The aroma of breakfast cooking reached his nostrils, the scent of bacon frying filled his mind. He smiled, Newt was still home, and he was cooking breakfast. Today would be a good day.

Bounding down the stairs he hung in the doorway of the kitchen, resting against its frame with his arms folded. The dining table was adorned with an array of sweet-smelling foods that Newt had prepared. Thomas mentally drooled inside at the sight of the banquet for two. There was peppered scrambled eggs with rashers of crispy bacon, pork sausages and grilled tomatoes. A stainless steel toast rack held four slices of hot buttered bread, accompanied by open jars of blackcurrant jam, honey and marmalade. At the end of the table stood a stack of blueberry pancakes, bottle of maple syrup and a small jug of cream. 

Newt had his back turned near the kitchen window in front of the sink, working on a fresh pot of coffee. Thomas noticed how the blonde favoured his better leg as he moved around the kitchen, limping ever so slightly. Despite this Newt was whistling along to the radio. As long as Thomas had known him Newt had been an early riser, eager to seize the day before Thomas had even contemplated vacating the warm darkness of his chamber.

He had planned on taking Newt with a surprise hug from behind, but as he stepped forward his stomach gave him away. Tempted by the aromas that engulfed the room, his starved organ let out a mighty ached grumble. 

"I was gonna say I hope you're hungry, but your stomachs already answered my question." Newt turned round smirking at him as he carried the coffee over the table where he filled two large ceramic mugs. 

"You're here." Was all Thomas could say. He couldn't remember the last time he had woken up with Newt still in the house. By that time the blonde would already be at his office or at some crime scene, depending on what case he was on, leaving Thomas to eat breakfast alone. He walked over to his boyfriend in a trance, his eyes taking in his beauty in the radiant light of daybreak. 

"Well spotted." Newt replied sarcastically as Thomas wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him into a morning kiss. He tasted coffee and honey on Newt's lips as he licked over them slowly, taking his time to enjoy the rare moment. Newt purred into him, responding deftly to the touch and placing his own arms around Thomas' neck. "Mmm, good morning Tommy." Newt spoke gently as he pulled away. Thomas happily replied, unable to recall the last time he had been able to wish the blonde any sort of morning at all.

"So what gives? How come you're not at work?! He said as he sat down, filling his plate with egg, bacon and tomato. "I'm so not complaining" He carried on hurriedly, "In fact I'm overjoyed."

 Newt chuckled, spreading thick cut marmalade onto his toast. "I could tell by your kiss." He grabbed a remote, using it to turn on a small corner television suspended high on the kitchen wall. Thomas watched as a newsreader reported of a body being found in a river about 60 miles from where they lived. The river ran through the city Denver, one of the larger cities, highly populated and heavily polluted. "Wow" Was all he could say. Crime was at a moderately low level in their area, Newt's employment usually only dealing with thievery, drugs,grievous assault or missing persons, but the odd number of homicides never failed to make an appearance. 

"It wasn't a body." Newt explained as the report finished. "It was... part of a body - a leg, cleanly severed and placed in a black bag before being dumped in the river."

"I take it you know all of this because your team's assigned to the investigation?" Thomas asked knowingly, not needing Newt's nod to confirm.

"They'll be wading through that mucky river looking for any more clues or... bits."

"Newt... breakfast." Thomas whined, staring at the sausage he had just speared onto his fork.

"I know, sorry, I'll spare you the details. Anyway that river is wide and deep, and my leg is nowhere near its best at the moment. If I waded through it I'd end up injuring myself badly, so they gave me the day to work at home." Thomas sighed inwardly, he had been right. The limp was coming back, probably under the strain Newt had been putting it under lately. He kept silent about the matter though, Newt was at least openly acknowledging it and looking after himself, he wouldn't nag him over it.

"I'll have to swing by the lab, collect some results and some files before coming back here and catching up with reports. Clear out the back log so we can put all our attention into this. Murder always takes priority, the newspapers see to that."

"Its definitely murder?" Thomas inquired, making a note to himself to ask Teresa later about what she knew. Newt finished his last of the toast before slurping his coffee - eyeing up the pancakes as he did so. "We can only assume so, but nothing's definite. Its either that or a really hardcore kidnapping. Regardless, the culprit wanted us to find it - the game is afoot." He paused as he was about to finish his mug, a wry smile on his face. "No pun intended."

"You're terrible." But Thomas couldn't help but smile too. He knew Newt must see all manner of gruesome things in his job, humor allowed him to distance himself from it, preventing it from festering in his mind. 

The two of them spent the hour slowly working their way through all the food Newt had prepared at a leisurely manner. It had just clocked past the tenth hour of the day when Thomas' phone buzzed in his pocket. Newt had begun cleaning the table. He lovingly ran a hand through Thomas' hair as he walked behind him, carrying a stack of plates under his other arm. Thomas let his head flop back with the touch, resting against the back of the chair. He let out a grunt as he read the text message.

"What's up?" Newt asked, his arms elbow deep in soapy water. Thomas realised he had been made a wonderful breakfast and the cook was now washing up. "Leave that I'll clean up, you relax." Newt didn't hesitate, "Good boy Tommy, what was the message about?"

"Harriet's sick, and she seemed fine yesterday." He quickly tapped a reply, wishing the girl a speedy recovery from her sickness bug. He felt bad, but he couldn't help but suspect the student just couldn't be bothered. "I'll see if Sonya is up for a double shift." The blonde girl was like a robot, balancing her classes with whatever shifts Thomas had to offer her, he didn't know how she did it. She was always so cheerful, never showing signs of fatigue.

He left his phone on the table and started on clearing the kitchen's mess. Newt disappeared to gather anything he would need to take into the lab with him. A few minutes later his phone buzzed again loudly against the table's surface. "Newt!" He called. "I got a text back could you read it? My hands are wet and busy."

"Wet and busy? Sounds fun, can I join in?" Newt slurred suggestively as he walked back into the room. Thomas groaned as he felt his cheeks warm, Newt's innuendos would be the death of him. "Just read it would you?" He insisted, moving the subject on as quickly as he could. 

Newt's grin only got wider as he read whatever Sonya had replied back. He read it aloud : "Hey Bossy, Of course! I would never miss the chance to work with you! See you soon x" He vocalized the kiss at the end by smacking his lips together in a big air-kiss. "Looks like you've got an admirer bossy Tommy." 

"Last time I ask you to read my messages." Thomas sat the last cleaned plate on the drying rack before drying his own hands. "Oh Tommy..." Newt said disappointing. "I thought I was gonna get to dry you off." The blonde ducked as Thomas flung the damp tea towel at his face. They laughed together, both enjoying the rare time they were able to spend together. All the recent months of stress and arguments seemed like nothing next to the few moments that they spent together. It was enough to remind them how much they loved each other. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slow I know, but this new case may yet be important, or maybe not >:D  
> Will Sonya cause mischief for Thomas? Who knows, we'll have to see. >:D
> 
> @apeddle90


	4. Dark Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas finds the sudden attention of a certain blonde unsettling, and is left feeling anxious when his sister pops in to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all,
> 
> I know I'm taking forever to update I am very sorry. I've barely had time to myself lately :/
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading it, I've tried to give you a longer chapter to get stuck into.  
> Quite a cute chapter I think, not a lot of plot development - sorry!
> 
> @apeddle90

As hard as it was to leave his boyfriend, Thomas couldn't help but walk to work with a spring in his step. The morning spent with Newt had been perfect, and sorely needed. Thomas hated to admit it, but the distance that had somehow wedged in between them had been a heavy weight on his back, dragging him down day by day. He knew people might think that their relationship was weakening, however Thomas knew the truth of it. Their love was strong, able to withstand such pressure when other's would fail and collapse. Sure it was hard, but it was worth it all just for those special moments together, each one able to revitalise Thomas back almost into a giggling school girl. Of course, the quick time they spent after breakfast where they did actually get wet and busy might have helped towards the stupid grin that was currently plastered on his face. He knew it was there, people gave him side-ways glances as he walked past them, but he didn't care - he couldn't hide the smile even if he tried to. 

Whistling a random tune, he unlocked the door of his Homestead, quickly locking it again behind him to keep the cold air out for as long as he could. The skies were laden with heavy grey clouds, fine rain cascading down onto the world below. Business would be quiet, something Thomas was grateful for today, his mind more preoccupied with a certain blonde. He'd made good timing considering their small bedroom excursion, and he still had just shy of half an hour before having to open for the day.

He maintained his melodious whistling as he switched the lights on and tuned in the radio to his favourite jazz station. Despite his big breakfast, he still hankered for his usual pre-work coffee, and so switched on all the machines before making his Chai Latte, a drink he never favoured until Newt had introduced it to his taste buds. Leaving the freshly made brew to sit, he retrieve the day's starting money from a safe sneakily hidden behind a picture hung up near the back of the premises. The picture itself had its own lock, its digits his own birthday rearranged into numerical order. The thickly set and deeply embedded charcoal coloured safe that lurked behind also had its own safe, protecting what was most valuable to him. That code was of the same theory, but it was Newt's birthday, protecting the store's takings, as well as a couple of investments Thomas had dabbled in - rare bottles, unopened, and gathering value with each passing day.

He dumped the money on the counter in its green cloth bag, leaving it for Sonya to put into the till upon her arrival. The bag was light and did not contain much, just enough to start serving customers' cash transactions. He had just taken the first sip of his coffee, the warm spices mulling his head, when a sharp rap came from the front. Thomas looked over his personal mug, made of bone china, it fitted his hand perfectly. Its design changed from the bottom, deep blood red changed into burnt orange, and then desert yellow as it reached the rim of the mug. The colours blended at their ends magically, creating an illusion of a warm flame, keeping his drink pleasantly warm. 

At the door was the usual morning baked goods delivery. Thomas bought in all of their food produce from the local bakery, one independent business supporting another. In return they got delicious warm pastries and cakes delivered every morning, along with ready to cook lunch-time snacks. The baker, Samuel, always sent in his young assistant to deliver The Homesteads' daily order. Thomas opened the door to the young man, sweet aromas of freshly made treats entreated on the vicinity. 

"Morning Thomas!" Arty cheered as he stepped past him, placing his tray of goods on the counter next to the money bag, a sheet of grease proof paper covering its' treasures. "Misery of a day - we've cut your usual order a bit to compensate for a quiet day. If custom proves us wrong just holler and we'll send a quick delivery your way."

"Cheers Arty will do." Thomas replied ushering the young baker out the door, who in turn ran towards his parked delivery van to get out of the rain. Thomas had gone through four bakeries before finding Samuel's, none even coming close to the level of quality in both the goods, or the service. A quick glance at the wall clock gave him fifteen minutes before opening time, and there was still no sign of Sonya. Employees were supposed to show up to work twenty minutes before opening to help set up the floor for the day. 

Taking a large swig of Chai, Thomas quickly entered the money into the till before unveiling the source of the sweet smell that now consumed the area around the counter. Grabbing small plates, he dished out the cakes and pastries, filling up the glass cabinets around the till area where people queued to pay for their choices. Maple and pecan plaits, egg custard tarts topped with nutmeg, hazelnut chocolate plaits, cinnamon whirls and an array of muffins filled the display area.  

He then grabbed the individually wrapped paninis and sandwiches, taking them over to a separate chiller which was adjacent to the front door, ready and waiting on the customer's right hand side when they entered. A quick heat up and they could enjoy toasted sandwiches of mozzarella, chicken and basil, or tuna melt, or many different alternatives. Immediately at the front on top of the counter sat a choice of crisps, biscuits, wafers and chocolates that Thomas brought from a separate company. Overall his coffee shop boasted a wide array of delicious treats that kept Thomas busy all of most days. However as he looked out at the grey weather, he was thankful for the reduced order.

A sweet trill rang from the wall clock announcing it was time to open up. Thomas sighed, just finishing putting the last of the paninis out on show. He quickly slid round to tidy away the baker's tray before unlocking the door and turning a sign around to announce he was now open for business. 

Lateness was one of Thomas' pet peeves, especially when there was no warning phone call of a late arrival. When Sonya stepped onto the premises twenty minutes late, he was at least glad she had the humility to look ashamed. Her white umbrella, decorated with black silhouettes of butterflies, had saved her from the now heavy rain. She hurried past Thomas in a flurry of apologies as she hastened upstairs to shed her cream coloured rain jacket. Thomas only stared at her, allowing her to get settled. 

Fortunately the place had been deserted in the first half hour, only a few passers by dashing to grab their take-away coffee before heading in to their offices. One middle-age woman sat near the back of the shop, her cappuccino next to an open laptop, her hands busily typing away. Thomas busied himself with the daily crossword in his sister's newspaper as he leant forward against the counter. _7 Across... Destroy soldiers quickly..._ He tapped his pen against the paper as he mulled the clue over in his mind. He enjoyed the cryptic clues, they were more fun than the ordinary ones. Like a maze, you had to discover the right path, and follow it until you found the answer. 

The door behind him swung open followed by a babbling voice that he had to concentrate to understand. Turning around he saw the flustered blonde wore dark skinny jeans and a smart light pink shirt, both comfortably hugging her svelte figure. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, a loose bang flowing down by her left ear, itching to be tucked behind. The girl seems to show a genuine panic in her eyes, she had never been late to a shift - cut it fine, sure - but never late. 

"Thomas I'm so sorry! I was on my way here when the bus broke down about a mile down the road - I waited on it to see if it would start back up but we had to get off. I pegged it here as fast as I could, I didn't think to phone, I'm really sorry." She spoke in a hushed tone, keeping her issues away from any customer's ear, even if it was just the one at the back. Thomas appreciated that.

"I understand, it happens - but try to call yeah? At least to let me know you haven't been run over by the bus."

Sonya smiled sweetly, she was the image of guilty innocence. Long blonde hair and doe eyes, and a figure to kill for - Thomas could see why she worked the night shift so well, it was like she was born for it. "Thanks Thomas, it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't and we'll call it even. Now, you're gonna have to miss your morning break, but I'll give you first lunch at one. I'm going to pop upstairs and make sure its all in order."

"Hey! We clean up well you know."

"Not saying you didn't. But what sort of boss would I be if I didn't check hmm?"

She laughed this time, her eyes shining even against the murkiness of the natural outside light. "True boss. I guess I'll look after the floor, you know, deal with all these massive crowds."

Thomas guffawed his own chuckle, "Good that. See you in a bit, just call if you do need me."

"Sure thing boss."

* * *

 

 The rest of the morning went by quickly, Thomas finding plenty to tidy up from the night before. In truthfulness the night team had done a good job, but Thomas took neatness to a different level. He busied himself with wiping over surfaces, mopping the floor and checking over the week's work rota. The grim weather must have successfully taken its toll, Sonya had not disturbed him once from needing help. Not long before her lunch he was satisfied with his work and headed downstairs to relieve her of her duties. 

A quiet buzz came to his ears as he reached the bottom of the stairwell. He walked through the door to find a few people had braved the weather in return for luncheon with their friends. About a third of the seats were taken up, and Sonya was just finishing serving a small queue of customers when he approached her side.

"Hey!" She quipped, beaming a smile at him. "All ship shape up there?"

Thomas noticed a few cakes had gone from the counter, flaked crumbs left in their wake. "Yeah all done, been busy at all?"

The young blonde lifted a hand flat, tilting it from side to side. "So-so, better than I thought it'd be. Found time to have a good crack at your crossword, hope you don't mind."

He did mind, he enjoyed spending quiet rainy afternoons puzzling the cryptic clues. "Nah it's fine." He lied, peering over to now see two-thirds of the puzzle filled in. The word _breakfast_ had been filled in in Sonya's neat handwriting, answering the clue he had been quandering before. "Its nearly one, wanna take your lunch now?" 

"Think you can cope without me?" She asked with sweet sarcasm. 

"I'm sure I'll be fine." He replied.

"Well I'm staying in anyways, I am not braving that weather without a reason." Sonya said, walking round to grab a panini and a packet of crisps. "Warm that up for me would ya hun, and I'll have a regular mocha" She ordered, placing the food in front of him. Thomas playfully flipped the sandwich back at her, "You can manage that yourself, I'll get your mocha." Sonya huffed in mock frustration, "Fine... honestly, can't get the staff nowadays..." She paid her bill, before heating her food. 

Thomas busied himself making his colleague's drink, losing himself in his practiced art. He knew the equipment like the back of his hand, allowing his mind to escape into idleness whilst he worked the machines. The sound of a camera's trigger brought him back to earth. Finishing the coffee, he turned round to see Sonya leaning on the counter with her elbows, her face behind an expensive looking piece of equipment. As he looked at her questioningly, she snapped another photo. "Nice." She stated, assessing the outcome on her screen, obviously pleased with the result. "You're very photogenic Thomas."

He blinked twice before placing the coffee on the tray next to her food. "Thanks." He said, feeling stupid for it. "Can I ask why you're snapping photos of me?"

She shrugged, "Project for uni. Thought I'd tell the story of the vibrant coffee chop at the heart of the town's occupants. Find the essence that makes it so popular. Of course I need the star of the show - you don't mind I hope?" She pouted her bottom lip out, batting her long eyelashes at him. Thomas found himself looking away at nothing in-particular. 

"No its fine. Neat idea, took me by surprise is all." 

Sonya grinned, "Thanks boss! Sorry, just had to seize the moment. Had to get a shot of you playing with your equipment."

Thomas felt himself go beetroot red at the blatant innuendo. Sonya just giggled, grabbing her tray and headed towards the back of the shop. "See you in a bit Thomas!" All Thomas could do was watch her go. The girl had been flirting with him in the short amount of time they had been on the floor together. A touch on his shoulder, a smile at one of his lame jokes, a hand across his back as she moved past him.

It made him slightly uncomfortable, and becoming the main focus of her camera was not something that he wanted to contemplate. He noticed how she purposefully swayed whilst she walked, her hips moving with her natural rhythm, how tight the clothes she had chosen wrapped around her figure. He quickly turned back towards his newspaper when he realized she was doing it for him, and that he had been staring, his cheeks still warm from embarrassment. 

* * *

 

The first crack of thunder took everyone by surprise, making Thomas jump out of his musings over the now nearly complete crossword. The flash of lightning had only been a second before, and the thunder boomed over their heads. Rain now lashed against the windows, waterfalls of water falling down the glass. The weatherman had mentioned a chance of storms, but Thomas wouldn't have bet on one as sudden and forceful as this. He was glad Newt was home for the day, safe and warm where he could rest his weary leg. 

Most customers had long since emptied out, somehow predicting the turn of the weather. All who remained was an elderly lady reading her own newspaper over a coffee, a couple of students with their laptops and notebooks out in a study session, and Sonya, still at the back and absorbed in her camera. The door suddenly opened to make way for two soaked people, both breathing heavily from running to quickly get out of the hostile weather. Thomas looked up to greet them, beaming when he saw his sister and his best friend stood there looking like drowned rats; a puddle of water forming at their feet. 

"Hey!" He greeted happily. "What are you guys doing here? Did you not see the weather?" He'd have expected his sister to be hard at work, she could never usually find time in her busy schedule to take a lunch long enough to be worth leaving her office. Minho he hadn't expected for another couple of hours, if not more, that night's event was a small affair and would not need much setting up. 

Teresa swept off her wet coat, hanging it on a coat stand Thomas had invested in to prevent wet clothes leaving trails through the shop. Her boots however had no such concern. Thomas couldn't help but mentally grimace at the wet footprints left in her wake as his sister walked over, placing her arms on the counter with a huff. Minho came after, actually taking the time to wipe his feet on the doormat before continuing his journey.

"This plank insisted that I have lunch here with him today." She stated, annoyance lacing her words. "I could be nice and dry in my office, but nooooo - the thunderstorm was a much nicer idea."

Minho rolled his eyes at the sarcasm, reaching over to clap Thomas on the shoulder. "I just thought it would be nice for us all to have lunch together! You were saying only a couple of days ago that you hadn't see your brother in ages. Well here he is!" 

His friend was right, they were at the end of January, and he had not seen his sister since New Years. That had been the last time the four of them had been together, and sadly noting Newt's absence, he realised it would probably be a long time before they could all hang out again. Teresa hated the winter, if it wasn't for work then she would choose to hibernate until the mornings were once again light from the early sun. 

"Hey sis." He said warmly. "Nice to see you, um... sorry about the weather. Drink?"

Teresa shook her head, her dark hair heavy with dampness swung with the motion. "Thomas - ever the business man. Its good to see you too little brother, sorry I haven't seen you, works been busy. When do you take your lunch break? Be nice to catch up properly."

Thomas checked the time. "I can take my break in ten - Sonya will be back from lunch then."

Minho rapped his knuckle on the counter. "Awesome, were gonna head upstairs, bring lunch up with you." He spoke authoritatively but with such a shit-eating grin that Thomas had no response to but a shake of his head. "Sure, whatever you say Min, be up soon." 

* * *

 

The now distant thunder continued to rumble almost melodiously from afar. The rain still there but more gentle than it was before. Thomas had given up on his puzzle, instead cleaning down any used machines to occupy the time until Sonya swooped in behind the counter, stashing her camera safely under the till. Thomas had noticed her snapping a few shots from different angles from the room. Apparently the weather helped with the mood of her shots, and she seemed happy with her work. He wondered how many of the taken snaps had him in it, quickly deciding not to dwell too much on it. 

"I'm gonna take my break if you're back." He said, quickly discarding his apron and grabbing a tray. He began to pile it with food, known favourites of his companions as well as his own. He had made the drinks prior to Sonya's return. It suddenly felt strange being around the girl, and he didn't want to hang around for too long when he could help it. "Been dead quiet, if you could stock-take the non-perishables whilst I'm gone that'd be great. I'll only be upstairs if you really need me."

"Of course Thomas, I've got your number." She sent him a wink before bending over to reach down under the counter for the stocktaking sheet, legs stretched to show off her youthful assets. Thomas looked away, grabbing his tray he quickly headed through the back door and up the stairs, cursing the sudden boldness of the young student. 

He found Teresa and Minho talking intently at the upstairs bar, Thomas greeted them again as he placed the tray down on the surface, already feeling more comfortable away from the tension that had built up downstairs. Minho pulled over a small table, lifting it as if it was nothing, and brought it over so they could sit round it in a circle. The three of them readily began catching up on bits and pieces in each other's lives.

Teresa informed Thomas all that she knew about the suspected murder case that Newt had shown him on the television that morning. Information was limited, but it had leaked that the leg hadn't been neatly detached from its body. Rather it had been hacked as if with a butcher's hatchet, and as far as they could tell there was no DNA match with any database profiles.

Thomas hadn't needed to ask, but she quickly assured him she had no plans on putting any press on the case. It had caused problems before, Newt and Teresa had argued heatedly, case confidentiality against freedom of speech. It had taken Thomas to convince Teresa to not put a spotlight on such cases, the stress it put on Newt was great and not worth it in his eyes. Teresa, as his loving sister, had complied. Since then Newt and her had carried on as normal, but neither brought up any case in front of the other, Thomas constantly acting as a go between to get the whole story for himself. 

They had finished their food and drinks by the time they had ran out of idle conversation, all fully caught up on the previous month of their lives. Both Teresa and Minho were pleased to hear Newt and Thomas had found some time together. They had both previously expressed their concerns for the duo, and they were visibly pleased that their relationship had not suffered from the strain. Before Thomas could even ask, Minho insisted that he go home an hour early, that he would cover until the day shift ended. Sonya had already agreed to stay on for the night shift, and they would cope fine with Darnell with them as well. 

Thomas had just thanked his friend before silence settled over them. He stretched whilst stifling a yawn, a full stomach making him feel lethargic and content to just sleep the day away. He noticed a difference in Teresa, she seemed anxious all of a sudden, and the usual comfortable silence grew to be the opposite. 

"Thomas..." She began quietly. "Its been great catching up with you, but that wasn't the reason we came here." Her fingers twisted a napkin into a tight coil, and Minho had a hand rested on her lower back, watching her intently - protectively. 

"Oh?" Thomas inquired, fidgeting in his seat.

His sister looked at him intently. "Thomas, we need to talk."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa's news brings promise of uncertain events for Thomas. A family reunion has been set, something Thomas had never planned on having to go through since he left home. 
> 
> All he wants is to get back home, to make time for his own life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't think I'd get this done today, but... well... I didn't, but I'm only late by a couple of minutes :D
> 
> You're probably thinking, where the hell is Alby? I know this is slow, but I wanted to develop other characters as well. It will all tie in together somewhere along the lines.
> 
> I haven't actually read through this properly, so please excuse any mistakes, I'll will re-edit it tomorrow
> 
> @apeddle90

Thomas' mind swirled as he processed the words that had left his sister's mouth. He gawked at Teresa, looking for any physical signs that he had missed prior to that moment. He guessed she looked a little fuller than before, but nothing that would have ever made him thought there had been any change. He glanced at his best friend, Minho had a hand placed on Teresa;s back in support, his face spoke of commitment and resolve.

"You're pregnant!?" He blurted out, still not quite able to process the situation. His older sister, the girl who built sandcastles with him on holidays and torched ants in the back garden with a magnifying glass, was now creating a new life all of her own. Even more bewildering was his best friend who had spent his years enjoying the bachelors' life, a man who didn't understand the meaning of the word commitment. Still, he felt pleased for the pair, once the shock ebbed out he gave them his heartfelt congratulations.

"How far gone are you?" He asked the generic question. Teresa smiled at him, looking relieved at his reaction to the news.

"Three months, we've known for a few weeks, but wanted to be sure before we told you. To be honest, we weren't sure how you would react."

Thomas looked at them perplexed. "How should I have reacted?"

Minho chuckled, his face had relaxed and he hugged his girlfriend close to his side. "Well you know... your friend and your sister... I don't know how I would react in your shoes."

True enough, Thomas had been weirded out at the thought of them dating, now the idea of them procreating popped into his head. He pushed the thoughts out quickly, shuddering at the notion. "Well... just because I know about the birds and the bees doesn't mean I have to think about it. Just don't go into any details and I'll be fine. Beside, what did you think I was going to do? Throw the table over and demand an abortion?"

"Not quite that extreme Thomas." Teresa said quickly. "Its just big news, for all of us. I haven't told mum or dad yet."

Thomas tapped his fingers against the table, the mention of their parents tainting his mood immediately. "I'm sure they'll be delighted their golden child is making more blessed beings."

"Don't start Thomas, please. I wanted to tell you first, you're my brother and I love you, you mean a lot to me, and so does your blessing."

The thought of his parents always angered Thomas. He tried not to think about them, but Teresa still saw them and they would occasionally crop up in conversation. They had all been a happy family once, until Thomas had decided to bring a boy home instead of a girl. His father practically disowned him then and there, refusing to speak to his 'tainted' son anymore. Since then whatever he did wasn't good enough for his father, his business wasn't ambitious enough, and was bound to fail in his father's eyes. Even all he had been through with Newt and Alby, his parents hadn't offered him one bit of love or support, apparently his gay tendencies reaping what they had sewn.

His mother had been the biggest disappointment, and had hurt him the most. Not strong enough to stand up to her husband, she sided with him instead, turning her back on her only son. Thomas had left home as soon as he finished school, to his father's delight, slumming it with Minho. His friend always said how he owed Thomas his life because of The Homestead, but without Minho's friendship and support, Thomas wouldn't have got the business off the ground - let alone make a success of it.

He stood up and walked over to give his sister a big hug, simultaneously reaching around to shake his friend's hand. "You don't need my blessing for anything Sis, its guaranteed. This requires a celebration." He went over and pluck a bottle of fine champagne from behind the bar and grabbed three glasses. 

Teresa laughed. "Thanks Thomas, but no alcohol for me now." 

"My sister...teetotal...how will you cope?" He asked genuinely, Teresa had been a fish for alcohol since the young age of fourteen, and had never shown and signs of slowing down. He imagined that her liver must float in a pickling jar, preserved in vodka and gin. 

"If my baby is not incentive enough, then Minho is sure to kick me into place." Said father to be folded his arms and sent Thomas a knowing look. "Damn straight. And I'm doing the same so its fair, so unless you want to drink that bottle yourself I suggest putting it back. That stuff is expensive."

He begrudgingly put back the champagne, instead opting for three bottles of non-alcoholic ginger beer. "Well I'm not drinking alone, so I guess I'm joining your AA circle." He brought the beverages over to the table, popping off the caps expertly with the opener he had attached to his key-ring along side his store keys. The three clinked their bottles together to the new life inside Teresa, before swigging back the spiced liquid. 

"Thomas there was something I wanted, well - we both thought of it, and I know its early and all, but we wanted to ask if you would be its Godfather?"

The gulp he had just taken of his drink nearly sprayed out onto the table. Instead he swallowed it and choked it down whilst having a miniature coughing fit. Minho just sat and laughed whilst he got his breathe back, his chest hurting from the strain. "G-god father? Guys I'm flattered but... me? You cannot be serious. 

"Of course were serious, well we wanted both you and Newt actually." Teresa hurried on. "We figured that if worst came to the worst, you guys would be able to give a great home to our little one." Minho nodded in agreement. "You guys would make great carers, you have a secure and stable home, and we wouldn't want anyone else."

His mind reeled at the prospect. The thought of Newt and him looking after another life together - it wasn't like it had never crossed his mind, but he doubted it could ever work. They barely had enough time for each other any more, let alone a little one as well.

"It would be an honor, truly, but... Newt and I aren't exactly... as concrete as we were five years ago. Not like you guys are. Things are... different...less easy."

Teresa reached over and covers his hands with hers. "I know things haven't been perfect for you guys, but you've been through so much. This year was always going to be difficult, any news yet?"

"Nope, his release date must be due by now, its tearing Newt apart. He pretends that it isn't, but I see through his facade. He has to be busy all the time, just to take his mind of it, and still his skin turns ghost white whenever the mail comes through the postbox."

Minho finished the remainder of his drink in one long draft. "Just be there for him Thomas, you are probably doing more than you think just by standing by him." 

"I hope so Min. I truly do."

The upstairs phone rang its internal tone, Sonya calling up for assistance. Minho sighed, "Last hour rush, as usual. I'll take over Thomas, you head home." 

Thomas thanked his friend who then hurried downstairs to offer his aid to to the young blonde. He sipped at his drink, letting the warm spices tickle his tongue. He felt Teresa watching him before she spoke. "There is one more thing Thomas. I asked Minho to let me talk to you about this privately."

"What else can there be?" His mind searched for something else, something that Teresa wanted to speak about without Minho's participation. 

"Once he found out I was pregnant, Minho proposed to me - he said it was the proper way to go about things. Romantic huh?" She chuckled to herself. "I said yes." Thomas stayed still, his sister had completed the set, job, house, marriage and child - the full package. Their parents would be so proud. As would he, he couldn't be happier for Teresa, but weddings never failed to bring out old ghosts. 

"Congratulations again Sis, I'm made up for you." He wished he could have made his voice sound more sincere, because he did truly mean it. But the uneasiness that came with the prospect of a wedding had settled into his bones. Teresa understood, she had watched her parents turn on her little brother. It must have been horrible for her to be stuck in the middle, but she always had his back.

He left home before she did, not wanting to stay a moment longer, and Teresa had been so angry with their parents for how they had acted. Over time, they had made amends, but she never spoke of them in front of him, nor the other way round. As far as they were concerned they had no son, and for him - he had no parents. Over time that became true enough, until now.

"I know it will be hard for you, but I want you all there on the day, and I want you all to be a part of little one's life."

Hard was an understatement, it would be torture. His dad would not be able to keep his tongue in check, even before having a drink, and Thomas wouldn't be able to guarantee how he would react. "Man Tess... okay... when are you thinking about getting married?"

Teresa looked guilty, making him feel bad for the awkward family situation. He knew that he shouldn't, none of it was his fault, but it upset him to see his sister so divided. "We were thinking this May... I know its late notice, but I don't want to waddle down the aisle with a huge baby bump, nor do I want to wait until next year."

"I'm guessing Minho will want me as best man..." Teresa nodded, he was the obvious choice. Great, less than five months until a wedding with the family he had been exiled from, where he would have to play the role of best man and make a speech in front of everyone. He would have to stand at the front with the groom, opposite his father when he gave his daughter away. On top of that he would now be a Godfather to their unborn child, and Newt was freaking out about Alby's impending release date. 

"Actually I think I will have a drink." He went to the bar and poured himself some vodka in a shot glass, downing it in one, letting the alcohol numb his senses. "I will attend your wedding, I will smile politely at our folks, and I will be the best man. Providing he does ask me of course."

Teresa beamed at him. "Who else would he ask? You two have been friends for life, you must have plenty of secrets to share with everyone." Thomas smiled knowingly, there was a books worth of embarrassing moments from Minho's past he could unleash at the man's cost. The time he went to the freshers fancy dress party dressed as Tinkerbell - he had bet Thomas he could drink him under the table. Thomas proved the victor, barely, but enough to make Minho wear the tiny green dress instead of him. Or when one of their fellow college friends had shaved Minho's head at a sleepover, not forgetting to draw the word 'Cocksucker' on his forehead in permanent black marker.  

Back then Minho had always attracted mischief, Thomas found himself lucky to be the sidekick, escaping most of the escapades. Looking back he found it hard to believe that the same man was settling down for marriage, and having a baby, with his sister. "Yeah, you could say I've got a few tales to tell. I do have but one request Teresa. Do not sit me with family, either at the ceremony or at the meal. Do not expect me to suffer their company, and do not force them on me - or vice versa. I know its your wedding, but I just can't do it. Its been too long, that bridge burnt down long ago. 

Teresa sighed in defeat, her not all that secretive hope of a family reunion crumbling before her. "Bridges can be repaired Thomas."

"Not this one Sis. I love you, and I would do almost anything for you. But not that."

"I won't force them on you. But don't blame me if they come and find you on their own. I know mother misses you - she does still love you you know."

"If she loved me all that much, than she would have stuck up for me - not shun me and watch me leave her life."

He stood up to take his leave, he had stayed later than he had expected to, and Newt would be waiting at home for him for the first time in weeks. With the now daunting feeling of the wedding added to his woes, he needed a night with his boyfriend. "I'm gonna head home, make time with my boy. I am pleased for you Tess, catch up with you soon yeah? Come over for dinner, Newt's a whiz in the kitchen."

Teresa stood up and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you Thomas, I know its hard, and I appreciate all that you do. Next time blondie is free we'll be round, minus the wine sadly."

They shared a familial kiss before he led them downstairs. The shop was in its last half hour of opening, and it was rather full with people grabbing late afternoon breaks. Teresa hugged him quickly one last time before heading over to chat with Minho. Thomas waved to his friend and had made his way to the door when he felt a light hand on his shoulder. 

"Hey Boss!" Sonya kept her hand on his shoulder as she spoke to him. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Er yeah sure thing, whats up?" He tried to sound casual. Her hand felt warm, radiating through his shirt and onto his skin. "Well I need to get a bit of history of this place for my project. We never get a chance to talk here, so I was hoping we could meet up sometime for a drink maybe? I could get the lowdown from the big boss himself."

She smiled at him sweetly, her pretty features radiating against the evening's streetlight, her eyes dazzling - focused completely on him. "Uh sure... how about you come over to mine one evening? You can meet Newt, and I can collate some information for you to look through."

Her smile faltered only for a second before she regained her composure - as if it had never disappeared at all. "Sure, it'd be great to meet Newt, how about this weekend?"

Thomas looked over to the bar, Minho and Teresa were busy chatting to each other, not noticing his presence. "Let me talk to Newt, I'll text you yeah?" The real smile was back, sugary sweet and full on, "Okay Thomas - catch ya later." With that he was finally free, he stepped out into the cold air, feeling better for just being out of the building.

Too much was happening all at once. It was hard enough to keep tabs on himself and Newt, let alone Minho and Teresa, the wedding, the baby, the responsibility. Not to mention the sudden attention from Sonya, the pretty blonde was not shy of expressing her interest, and this new supposed project of hers a probable excuse for them to spend time together. Something he was not keen on doing. 

He found his iPod in his coat pocket, turning the volume up loud he let the music and his fast pace carry him home, blocking out all thoughts except one. That he was going home to spend the night with Newt. It was enough to put a real smile back onto his face. 

 

 


	6. Time Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Newt spend some much needed time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very domesticated this chapter, no real plot development, but please enjoy it all the same.
> 
> PLEASE READ: I have re-edited this on 06/03/15. I wasn't happy and so have changed how it ends. If you've already read this chapter then I am sorry, but it is worth a re-read. At least from two-thirds in anyways - there's plot development you don't want to miss. (Making my original comment at the start of this null and void.) Thank you! :D
> 
> @apeddle90

A welcoming medley of smells hit Thomas' nostrils as he unlocked his front door. Spices of garlic, chilli and lemongrass mixed with cooking fish filled the living space, his stomach growled in responding hunger. He hummed appreciatively as he placed his keys in a ceramic bowl on a nearby shelf, Newt was a talent in the kitchen, and Thomas happily allowed himself to be fed on the blonde's culinary delights. He himself could navigate a kitchen without hurting anything, or anyone, but he lacked the technique that came with great flavour and finesse. 

He shrugged his coat off his shoulders and hung it on a clothes peg on the wall. The room was at an adequate temperature, a welcome change to his body after the bracing cold outside.  The lounge was devoid of life, but busy noises echoed out of the adjoining kitchen, the source of the wonderful aroma. He could hear spices sizzling in oil, and drawers being opened and then shut again. Their dining table had been adorned with a centerpiece, three long plain wax candles sat in pyramid formation, embedded in a glass twin candelabra. Fake green ivy entwined around the base, flowing around the centre of the white tablecloth. Two large wine glasses sat paired together, one filled with deep red, another sparkling white. Candlelight reflected of the glass, glittering the lighter, and enriching the deeper. 

Thomas plucked up the red, taking a generous sip, letting the sharp redcurrant tones tang along his gums. He hadn't even set eyes on his boyfriend, and yet he felt warm and content. It proved to him that despite their hardships, Newt knew him better than anyone else. He picked up the other glass and sauntered into the kitchen. He could already feel the wine joining the vodka he had shot down earlier, and he yearned for food to help line his stomach. 

A film of steam fogged the busy kitchen, Newt stood in the middle of the shroud, calmly stood over the hob with one hand on a hip whilst the other stirred his green thai curry. Generous chunks of salmon sat simmering in an aromatic broth, surrounded by sweet peas, green beans and new potatoes - garnished with vividly green coriander leaves. Thomas leaned against the door frame, taking the precious time to admire the man before him. Newt's slender form was dressed in skinny teal chinos, and a loose-necked crimson t-shirt. An apron of green and white stripes protected his clothing from food splashes, a good thing considering the various stains that had marked the material in several places. In contrast to the apron, the kitchen was eerily neat and tidy. Newt was a calm and organised cook, unlike most people the activity came easy to him, and he was able to multi-task through it without getting stressed or rushed. His brow was furrowed slightly in concentration, his eyes clear and focused on the task. 

"You're late."

Newt tapped a wooden spoon on the edge of his cooking pot before taking it off the heat. Thomas moved close to him, handing him the glass of white wine. "I'm sorry, got caught up at work." He caught Newt's hand before he could place the glass to his lips, replacing it with his own lips instead. Newt let him in eagerly, his mouth warm and spiced from tasting whilst he cooked. Newt's eyes shied open as they broke apart, his lips plumped and red from the kiss. Thomas groaned, already captivated by the man's aura. 

"Easy there Tommy." Newt let out a breathy chuckle, "We've got all night."

"Sorry Newt, I just haven't got to spend time with you like this in so long." He wrapped his arms around the slender body, resting his head against blonde locks. Closing his eyes, he squeezed amorously, letting all his senses absorb the other's entity. "Plus I haven't had anything to eat since lunch except a double vodka and this wine." Newt's body vibrated against his as he chuckled.

"I thought I tasted vodka on your tongue, not like you to drink at work - something the matter?" Thomas hummed in contentment as Newt massaged a thumb in circles on his nape. He sipped more of his wine behind Newt's back, hugging the man's body close to his. "Yeah... rough day, getting better by the second though." Any worries that had plagued his mind about their relationship had been extinguished within minutes. Despite their lack of time together, tonight was already proving they still felt as strongly for each other as the day they unified as one. 

Newt slid away from him, Thomas already missed the warmth that went with him. "Take our glasses into the other room, I'll bring dinner out in a minute. We can discuss whatever you need to." He brought two warming plates out of the oven, ready and waiting for the sweet-smelling curry to fill them. Thomas picked up the blonde's wine and made his way through to place them back where he found them on the table. A music system sat on a nearby pine cabinet, he put on his Stevie Wonder album, the smooth dulcet tones filled the room. The middle panel at the bottom of the piece of furniture acted as a miniature wine cellar. He found the two bottles from whence their glassed had been filled, and brought them to the table. He topped up their glasses as Newt joined him at the table, placing two full plates at their places. 

The table was a long rectangle of dark wood. Newt sat at one end, and Thomas sat himself adjacent to him, as close as he could get. Neither understood how couples could sit at either end, so far apart from each other at dinner, where they couldn't clink glasses, hold hands, or entwine legs. They did all three before they started their meal. 

"To time well spent together." Thomas initiated, holding his glass up to Newt. He smiled sweetly, gently touching his glass to Thomas' in response. "To time well spent together." He agreed. The smell of the food got too much and he started greedily on the delicious food. The fish was tender and fell apart, the vegetables crisp and green. Spices tingled his taste buds, setting his mouth alive, but not burning. "Newt this is amazing, thank you." His mind settled as the food absorbed the alcohol he had drunk. He slowed his eating down, relishing the flavours, enjoying the wine and the company. 

"You don't need to thank me Tommy, I enjoy cooking for you. I don't get the chance much as you know." Newt's face fell sad for a moment, he traced the rim of his glass with a finger. Thomas took the man's hand in his own. He knew Newt would blame himself for their distance. "It's not your fault." He reassured him. "You're work is important, I get that." 

Newt replenished their wine, the bottles already reaching near empty. "I know you do, it doesn't stop me from missing this though." He gestured to their current surroundings. "I do love you Thomas, so much. Never think otherwise. Its amazing to know I can follow my work ambitions and you'll still be here for me. I - I never had that before."

Thomas knew all too well what Newt meant. Before meeting him, Newt had been at the mercy of his boyfriend Alby. The violent man couldn't take Newt's success in his career, and had taken his anger out on the poor blonde. The man's lunacy had almost cost them all their lives, and his impending release date weighed heavily on their hearts. Newt had not mentioned his name, and Thomas felt no wanting himself to do so. "Your work is important, and so are you. I will always be here for you. As you are for me." The alcohol swam inside him, the food warmed his stomach, Newt wondered his eyes. He felt at peace as they kissed over half empty glasses and clear plates, their movements slow and loving, making the moment last as long as possible. 

He cleared the plates and set about the task of washing up, letting Newt relax to the sweet sounds of the playing music. Setting the last plate aside to drain, he took a tub of salted caramel ice cream out of the freezer to thaw and returned to find his boyfriend reclined on the sofa, the last of the wine filling their glasses on the glass coffee table. Newt patted the spot next to him, Thomas sat down next to him, cuddling in close, gladly accepting the invitation. 

"So what happened at work?" Newt inquired. Thomas had to think, the evening had eased him so much he had forgotten the day's events. 

"What didn't happen you mean." Thomas huffed. "Teresa and Minho came in and dropped two bombs on me, well us."

Newt looked at him with a worried look on his face. "What?"

"Their getting married this May. She's pregnant, and you and I have been offered the grand title of Godparents." He spilled it all out as quick as he could, not wanting to think about each matter too much. He was enjoying his evening, and didn't want anything heavy affecting the mood. 

"Oh." Was all Newt said. Thomas wanted to laugh at the perfect reaction. Newt understood Thomas' family history, and he would bet the blonde had never wagered on having to meet the homophobic parents of his gay boyfriend. Newt's parents were the complete opposition. They resided back in England. Newt had taken him home one Christmas to introduce him to them. They were such lovely people, so warm and welcoming that Thomas had actually cried cuddled up to Newt on the first night. It was overwhelming, for the first time he felt the love that his parents had denied him. 

"Well, that's great news for them. A wedding and a baby? I didn't see that one coming. They'll have to come over, we need to celebrate properly." Newt continued. Thomas kissed his head, "I've already offered your cooking, next weekend were both free, I've offered your services... twice."

"Twice?" Newt inquired, "Should I make a menu and put an open sign on the front door?" His voice was light with humour. "Who else am I cooking for?"

"Sonya." Thomas stated in monotone. The girl had gotten under his skin today, and it riled him. "She's... she says she has a project at school, she's doing photography. Apparently she wants to use The Homestead as her subject, and wanted to meet me to get a lowdown on its history. Thing is she seems much more interested in me than the business. I bet her camera is mainly full of shots of me, and I'm not convinced this project is even real. She wanted to meet privately for a drink, but I diverted her back here so we can talk here... with you."

Newt leaned forward, picking up his wine and taking a gulp. "Sounds like I've got competition."

"Its so uncomfortable. I mean, I'm her boss, I'm a good six years old than her, and she knows I'm taken. I don't know how to deal with it."

"Sack her?"

"I can't sack her for that, besides - she's good for the place. The nightlife loves her."

"I bet it does." Newt rolled his eyes. "Can't you just talk to her? Tell her you're happy to help her with this 'project' but let her know she is making you feel awkward. She might not even know she is doing it. I mean, you are ridiculously handsome, can't really blame her. I'm a lucky man."

He felt the warmth when the combination of the wine and the compliment reddened his cheeks. "Damn straight you are."

"I'm anything but straight Tommy." They both laughed heartily. Thomas feeling the best he had in ages, despite the forebodings the day had planted in his life, Newt had made him feel more at ease than he had in weeks. "They should prescribe you Newt, you make everything that much better." 

The blonde smiled warmly, "I am more than happy to cook for Teresa and Minho, and Sonya when you wish. In regards to the wedding... I know you must be dreading it, I can't say I'm too thrilled about meeting your folks."

Thomas snuggled down, resting his head on Newt's stomach, looking up into his captivating eyes. "Its gonna be awful. And worst thing is, with a kid on the way, they're gonna be entwined with our lives that much more. Teresa does separate things now for her birthdays as it is to keep us apart, but she's not gonna do it for every birthday and Christmas for her and her child."

Newt bit the inside of his mouth in deep thought. "Looks like that hurts... thinking." The blonde clapped him on the head for the comment, but his smile was warm. "How about this Tommy... could Teresa stretch an invitation to my parents? They'd love a trip out here, and at least then they might balance out the tension from your parents."

Thomas sat bolt upright and surprised Newt with a passionate kiss. "Newt you are amazing, I'll ring her tomorrow and ask, she can't say no." He laughed, the idea hadn't even crossed his mind, it was the perfect solution. It wouldn't make it great by any means, but bearable - just maybe. There was one thing he needed to know though. "Newt?"

"Yeah?" Newt had commenced massaging his lower back, Thomas felt all the stress of the day seeping away under the feather-light touch. "How do you feel about us being Godparents?"

Newt kissed him softly on the nose. "Its just a precaution Tommy. Besides, I think we'd be great parents don't you? I can teach him how to cook, and biology, and chemistry, and physics, and maths... you can teach him how to make a good Chai latte." Thomas stared at the laughing man sat beneath him, fighting to keep the smile creeping onto his face. He lost, joining in with his boyfriend. "I think I could manage that."

Thomas felt a grin spread across his face. "Good that Newt." He stood up from the sofa, letting out his own yawn as he stretched. He offered his hand to the still lying blonde. "Bed?" Newt took a firm hold, surprising Thomas by pulling him down on top of him. He fell with an oomph and a laugh as they snuggled close together. "Actually Tommy, I'm happy right here."

 They stayed up late, drinking wine and enjoying each other's company. Thomas felt his woes and worries vanishing one by one. Newt had made him feel much better about the wedding, and he was able to enjoy the easy conversation that flowed between them as it was the first day they met. 

"When you call Teresa tomorrow, invite her and Minho around this weekend, I'll do a Sunday Roast - England style. If Sonya is free, she can join us as well. Might as well hit two birds with one stone eh? There's not a lot going on at work, so I should be free the whole weekend." He wiggled his eyebrows at Thomas, who groaned at being so close to spending a whole weekend with the blonde. In truth he didn't want to share him with anything else, and at this rate he would be spending more time with Sonya than with Newt.

"I'm working all of this Saturday." The tone of his voice proved his revulsion at the situation. That Saturday he had agreed to open both floors of The Homestead in the evening, to accommodate for a hundred and fifty head-strong bigwigs party. The money would flood into the tills, and it was an opportunity he could not miss. Full staff would be needed to man the ruckus do, which meant Thomas was working all day and all night, with Sonya. 

Newt pouted his lips against his wine glass, "Well... that makes a change. Me stuck here and you out working. Perhaps I could gate crash?" Thomas shook his head ruefully. During the day Newt could come and go as he please, upstairs or downstairs, though he seldom had the time for it. The night scene was a different matter, the parties were expensive and private, drink and food already paid for by the guest's hosts. There was no room for freeloaders. Just this night had bagged Thomas two and a half thousand dollars, as long as he delivered the good service that was part of the deal. 

"I'm dreading it, all those smugly rich fat cats, high on wine and fine liqueur, laughing their fat bellies and wiggling their greasy fingers. Enough to make me feel sick." The party were not locals, but a travelling celebratory parade following some young lordling who had too much money for his too few years on the planet. Thomas could not recall his name, not wishing to retain it in the first place. He had worked for what he had and was proud of it, those who got wealth and fortune handed to them on the plate of family bloodlines did not sit well with him. 

"You'll do just fine Tommy. Smile your sweet smile, ooze your effortless charisma, and keep their glasses filled until they stumble out the door." Newt stood up to take the glasses out to the kitchen, staggering slightly from the alcohol he had consumed. He chuckled sweetly, "Much like what you've done to me tonight." He hiccuped on his way out. A few moments later he called back out. "Thomas!"

He was in trouble, the tone wasn't all serious, but he had done something wrong to earn his full name from Newt's lips. He quickly plodded into the kitchen, his own head lightened, swimming in wine. "What have I done?" He entered the room to see Newt looking at him accusingly, his finger pointing towards the once clean counter. There sat the ice-cream he had gotten out earlier, now thawed into mush and leaving a large sticky mess all over the surface. 

"Oops. I forgot about that."

He walked over and traced his finger through the puddle before sucking it. There was no longer any coldness to the treat, but it still tasted salty and sweet. "Still good stuff, want some?" He stroked his digit along the sticky substance again, leaving a fine trail behind him before the liquid seeped back into place. He held his hand out, smiling devilishly. Newt stared at him with a front of annoyance. It did not last long, being replaced instead by mischievousness as he lapped his tongue up and down Thomas' finger, absorbing the sweet liquid as he went . Thomas shuddered, "Oh that's deep..." He went in for a kiss only for Newt to pull away. 

"If you think you're getting out of cleaning this with salted caramel foreplay you can think again." He chucked a wet cloth at Thomas, who caught it just before it slapped him in the face. "Clean up, and then maybe we can resume what we started." He said with such an authority that turned Thomas on. "Yes sir." He said, faking a salute with the towel. Newt just chuckled. As he left the room he picked up his dormant laptop, making his way back to the couch. Thomas heard the power being switched on and he exasperated at the sound. Newt could never go to bed without one last look over his work. 

"Any news on that leg then?" He asked reluctantly, trying to speed the blonde on so they could go to bed together. The wine had made him light-headed and dopey, Newt had made him horny, and the finger sucking had sent him right over the edge. 

"Actually yeah there is, we got a DNA match on it, come see. Whoever he is, he must have led the life of crime that gets you into a sticky end such as this one."

They had spoken over dinner of how the case had progressed. Newt confirmed what Teresa had said, the leg had been horrifically hacked off, and the poor victim was surely lying dead somewhere, perhaps still in the killer's sick hands. But that was all they knew for sure. Newt had spent his day catching up on research, as a scientist he had to keep up with any new discoveries and updates in the industry. Now it seemed they had a face to match the dismembered leg. A face they could go looking for. 

Thomas leaned over the back of the sofa to look at the screen of Newt's laptop. The blonde raised the screen so he could see the profile of the victim. When he saw the solemn face look up at him from the monitor his heart stopped. Eyes he had seen before looked at him with the same silent sinister sneer they had done before. 

"Newt..." His voice was shaking, his happy and frivolous mood gone like a kitten chased by bloodhounds. His own blood ran cold at the coincidence that sat in front of him. Newt turned around, his eyes shown he heard the tremors in his boyfriends speech.

"What is it Tommy?"

He swallowed hard, clenching his hands around the back of the sofa. "I know that man."

 

 


	7. Teresa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? A newtmas chapter with no Thomas or Newt? What is this? I know, I'm sorry, it just kinda happened. Just a short chapter catching up with our other gladers during the last chapter. 
> 
> @apeddle90

Teresa spied the young blonde out of the corner of her eye, hanging on her brother as he attempted to leave for home, the girl's hand gripping ever so slightly too firm, her eyes a tad too heavy. She leaned on the counter, idly stirring her fresh coffee. The final hour was too busy for her liking, too much idle noise cramped inside her head and she could feel the oncoming signs of a migraine. Headaches never usually bothered her, but ever since the morning sickness had passed she'd found herself prone to them; she hoped they would prove to be only a temporary side effect. She also blamed her pregnancy for her lower tolerance levels for stupidity, or those who were just plain annoying.

"Could she sink her claws into him any more, or any less obviously? Let him go already." She hissed quietly, so only her fiancee could hear. Minho was whistling softly as he idly wiped down the cake cabinets, waiting for the clock to signal closing time. He gave her a wry smile. "So the girl's got a crush on him, let her boost his ego a little bit, it could use it."

She stayed quiet, choosing to hide her face in her cup as she drank deeply from the reservoir of the sweetened beverage; her sugar dosage had gone up by two sachets recently. Minho was right, despite the fact that Thomas was attractive, with natural charm and of gentle persuasion, he had no confidence left in the love department. At school he had laid his heart on a plate for several suitors, only to have it stomped on when they had gotten what they wanted from him; usually steamy sex and an arm to hang on to at some random party. He always blamed himself for failed romances, thinking that he hadn't been good enough, or hadn't tried enough. His college years continued the same, and it wasn't until Newt that he had stayed in a safe and stable relationship. Recently that relationship had found turbulent waters, and it had taken its toll on her brother, not that he would admit it - but she knew. His smiles were too forced, and never reached his eyes anymore, whilst before they would sparkle. 

"Ego boost indeed. More the reason for him to get home, its about time Newt found some time for him." If anyone asked her whether she liked Thomas' chosen lover or not, she would say that she did, and it would not be a lie. Their lines of work had clashed on several occasions, and though they would always strive to keep it professional, the frostiness sometimes inevitably leaked into their personal lives. When it came to Thomas it was different. Deep down she trusted Newt, they had been through many ordeals as a couple, and had made it through the other side. But it pained her to see the strain on her brother's face when he spoke of how he hardly sees his blonde anymore, or how obsessed he was with his work. She knew Newt was good for Thomas, in fact the best thing that had ever happened, but she knew that a dejected Thomas was a susceptible one, and the pretty eyelashes that Sonya kept batting his way concerned her. _Still,_ she thought, _it_   _might not do any harm to give Newt a reason to fight for his attention._

"Get us one of those lemon curd flapjacks please sweetie." Minho picked out the last remaining cake, sneaking it to her without putting it through the till. "Were about to close anyways, not like anyone else was gonna buy it." Her appetite had almost doubled, she was definitely eating for two, or at least that was the excuse she told everyone. She craved lemon, whether it was lemon tea, lemon curd on toast, or lemon drizzle cake, she hankered for  the sharp citrus flavour. 

The last customer was just leaving as she picked up the few remaining crumbs, she welcomed the new quietness that surrounded her. Now able to think, her thoughts returned to Thomas. She could not help but feel bad for what they were inflicting upon him. He put a brave face on for her, but she knew it would be killing him inside. She herself had never forgiven their parents for what they did to him, and for a long time she had been a chew toy in a tug of war between two dogs. Since then Thomas had kept himself well out of family affairs, spending most birthdays and Christmas' with Minho over them. Now she was plunging him back into family life, not just with a wedding, but with the bundle of joy that was growing inside her.

Thomas would do the right thing, and play the part well, despite the dread and hatred he associated with their parents. he would be there for her, and for her baby as a loving brother and uncle, that she could be certain of. That was why she loved him so much, no-one ever gets to choose their siblings, but with hers she had found a best-friend, and a confidant. She just wished she could have done more for him in the past.

"You're thinking way too hard, even my head is starting to hurt." Her husband had returned from locking the doors, the late winter sky was quickly darkening in the late afternoon, making it feel much later than it actually was. "Care to share the burden?"

Her head did hurt, but not from the thinking, she would need to remember to pick up some pain relief on the way home. "Just thinking about Thomas. I hope tonight goes well for him, he needs it. Minho, are we asking too much of him?"

He came over to sit next to her, placing a hand on her thigh and squeezing ever so gently. "He's a big boy Tess, and tougher than you give him credit for. We'll make sure were there for him if he needs it, but I'm sure Newt will keep him sane."

Teresa hummed, not committing to any further conversation on the subject, it really was hurting her head too much, and the flapjack was not sitting in her stomach well. At that moment, Sonya sauntered over from the back of the shop, bending down to get her belongings from the locker under the counter. "What's Newt like? I've never seen him in here." Her voice was muffled as she spoke from below the counter. 

 _What was Newt like?_ Teresa had not been asked that question before, but despite their differences, she had never come across a reason to dislike him over any particular trait. She glanced at Minho who gave her a knowing look in return. Sonya was fishing, and it seemed that they were to be her bait. "Well... he's devilishly handsome, blonde hair, brown eyes, quite tall and slim. He takes work very seriously, a great cook, dry sense of humor, and from what I can gather from Thomas - he's not bad in bed either."

She smiled to herself when Sonya dropped her handbag at the last point. "Oh wow... he sounds great. Its just I asked Thomas if we could hang out to talk about this place for a project, and he suggested having dinner at theirs. Isn't he great? Most bosses wouldn't even bother with a coffee, let alone a whole evening, I can't wait."

Teresa couldn't agree more, her brother was great. But he was also delicate and susceptible, and she didn't like the idea of this young girl hanging around him at every opportunity. 

"Well he does owe you one. It was very kind of you to come in to work today at such short notice." She played it sweet to the oblivious blonde, who seemed to have no idea that Teresa was once a young college student too.  _Kind, and all too eager._

"Oh its never a problem, Thomas always helps me out if my school rota changes to accommodate my working hours. It was the least I could do, besides, he's fun to be around. Anyways I'm gonna shoot, Minho I'll be back in a couple of hours to help set up."

"Sure thing, don't forget to bring your camera back with you."

She gave him a puzzled look. "What for?"

"Well I'm assuming you'd want to get some evening shots for your project." He almost laughed when Teresa mimed bunny ears with her fingers behind Sonya's back at the word 'project', but managed to maintain a straight face. A look of sudden remembrance dawned on Sonya's face.

"Oh yeah of course. Thanks Minho, would have totally forgotten. See you in a bit. See you later Teresa." She called back as an after thought as she left the premises. 

"Project my ass. Stupid girl, who does she think she is?"

Minho laughed as he pocketed his keys and plucked out their coats. "A young girl who has a crush on her boss, that's all. Come on, I'll run you home before the next shift starts."

The day's rain had finally ceased, leaving large puddles in the roads in its wake. The drive home was quick, traffic was light - no-one keen on going anywhere on such a bleak evening. They stopped off at a petrol station, Teresa bought a bottle of water and some aspirin whilst Minho filled the tank up. She swallowed down two of the pills straight away, eager to get some pain relief. 

"Headache again?" Minho inquired gently, though he continued, knowing the answer already. "Have a bath and an early night, you don't relax enough and you need to now. Its not just you you're taking care of anymore."

She rolled her eyes, Minho had lectured her on that same point many times already. Annoyingly he was right, she needed to slow down from work, and take time to rest. Her head still pounded, and her right eye felt heavy and sore, she would defiantly get an early night. 

"I shouldn't be too late, its only a small thing tonight." Minho said from the drivers seat as she stood outside the car in front of their apartment block. "Take it easy yeah?"

"Yes Minho I will, stop nagging me." She said with a smile. It was nice to have someone in her life other than her brother who cared for her so. She watched ruefully as he drove away, wishing that he could stay with her. Her feet felt heavy as she dragged herself indoors, fatigue quickly seeping into her bones. She ran a bath and soaked her body in the hot water, letting her mind drift away into nothingness as her iPod played soothing music in the background. 

Her mind would not entirely relax though. There was a wedding to plan, and quickly too. A venue needed to be found, a caterer, a dress, invitations, reception, DJ, not to mention all the little finishing touches. Then there would be the people and their roles. Her father would give her away, and Thomas would inevitably be the best man. Where would Newt sit during the ceremony? She wanted all her family on the head table at the meal, but Thomas had adamantly refused to be sat with them. They weren't even a big family, but the potential tension was already driving her insane. 

She drained out the bath and dried herself off, changing into a plush purple dressing gown and grey fluffy slippers. Her head felt better, but it still ached gingerly, if not as bad as before. It hadn't been long before she took the first lot, but she downed two more pain killers before sinking into bed. The weight drifted out of her body, and she snuggled down under the duvet, her eyes heavy. Her mind gave up on thinking, and darkness took her quickly into a dreamless slumber. 

When her eyes opened again the room was dark except for a warm glow from her open laptop that sat on her desk on the adjacent wall. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, a glance at her clock told her it was nearing eleven, Minho would be home soon. She mentally scolded herself for falling asleep, her sleep patterns would be out of sync, though in truth she felt like she could go back to sleep easily enough. Instead she got out of bed to fetch a glass of water, she took two more tablets, her headache had almost completely subsided, and she didn't want to chance it coming back. Her stomach felt better having digested the cake from earlier, and the cold water felt good as it ran down her dry throat.

Returning to the bedroom she placed the half full glass on her desk and sat down to check her e-mails. An urgent notification had caused the screen to light up, she opened the e-mail to read an update on the case they were following. She had not publicized any facts about the case Newt was working on, as she promised, but her team still followed it for any important facts and updates. The e-mail was from her co-editor, all excited as she explained the discovery of the identity of the severed leg. 

She wasn't surprised that the victim held a criminal record. People don't normally get their legs hacked off if they hadn't gotten themselves into deep water with the wrong crowd. She analysed the victim's face. All mug shots looked foreboding, but the stark features held more intensity than most. The fierce eyebrows, dark eyes, and clenched jaw made her shiver in her chair. "Gally." She mouthed the man's strange name out loud. She no longer felt any sorrow for his fate, it was awful, but looking into those almost black scowling eyes gave her no doubt he would have deserved it. 

She sighed heavily, all the competing publications would have this sprawled over the front page, whilst they, they would have nothing. Her fingers itched to call Thomas, but it was late and he was hopefully far too busy enjoying himself to answer the phone. Instead she turned the computer off and went back to bed, intending to stay awake until Minho returned home. She did not, more tired than she realised, sleep took her immediately. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we remember Gally? Ooooooooo, what mess did he get himself into?
> 
> @apeddle90


	8. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has a much needed breakdown, and finds Newt waiting there to comfort him.  
> When the time comes, will he be able to return the favour?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, free time has been a rarity lately, updates are slow and I do apologize. 
> 
> @apeddle90

Thomas sat slumped on the sofa, the leering picture still boring into him from the laptop where it sat perched on the coffee table. Cold beads of sweat trickled down the back of his neck, cool against his overly warm skin, dampening the hairs there that now stood on end. He had entered the room with the intent of ravishing his lover, re-kindling their flame after an evening of glorious contentment. Sadly, that was now a mere distant notion, as he remembered his encounter with the stoic sentinel that had been Gally.

Over time he had been able to keep that night at the back of his mind, but it was never completely out of range. His dreams still troubled him, becoming even more intense as of late. Curiously, his nightmares only ever focused not on his experience, but of his imaginations of what Newt had gone through. He had seen his home burn from the outside, but he had not resided in the centre of the inferno, nor did he witness the blackmailed suicide of his friend Aris. He had tried several times, but talking to Newt about it had proved impossible, the blonde had sealed the memory away out of trauma and shock, his mind not letting him access the broken files again. In replacement, Thomas' subconscious imagination delved into overdrive, conjuring up wicked visions during his nocturnal rests. 

Now all he could remember was the dampness of the alleyway as he was held down roughly on his knees, the cold water seeping into his jeans. The iron grip that viced his shoulders, crushing them downwards, keeping him still as Alby unleashed his rage upon him. His stomach had taken most of the beating, pummeled to the point of throwing up. Even now eating too much left him crippled afterwards. The man who held him down had been silent and immovable during the whole assault. Thomas would never forget that face, as he lay beaten and bloodied under the rain. That face had looked down over him in silent contempt as he lay sprawled on the ground, before walking away, leaving him to rot. 

"Tommy? Are you alright?" Newt looked at him through concerned eyes set with worry. "You knew this Gally? How?" He sat close, and lay a gentle hand on Thomas' knee, massaging him softly. Thomas tried to relax under the touch, but Gally's eyes bored into him from the lit up screen. He found them unbearable and lurched forward, firmly slammed the monitor shut on itself, making Newt jump back in the process. 

"Jesus Thomas, what's wrong? Who is he?"

A part of him wanted to keep Newt in the dark, safe from the memories that he worked so hard to forget, but he couldn't.  He left the couch for the drink cabinet, quickly downing a scotch for his nerves. He let the warm liquid sink into him, warming his chest. He went to pour another when Newt's hand covered his own, gently taking the glass from his possession. 

"I think we've had enough alcohol for one day hm? Now tell me what the matter is. " 

In truth, he had had too much to drink. Since the unusually early vodka during the day, to the plentiful amounts of wine and the scotch, he felt light-headed and vulnerable as his emotions ran uncharacteristically high. He closed his eyes, only to find Gally's face imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Opening them again, the skin under his eyes felt damp from damp eyelashes. The light of the room seemed bright, an aura around the lovely sight of his boyfriend before him, spurring him on with silent support. He sighed deeply, trying to decide on the right words to say. 

"The night Alby attacked me in the ally near The Homestead, he - Gally was there." He kept the details of the night focused away from the death and destruction that had whirled around Newt, fearful of dragging up locked away demons. "He held me down whilst Alby beat me, I-I'd never forget that face." 

Newt's eyes grew as wide as saucers at the mention of his ex-boyfriend's name. He held onto Thomas' bicep tightly, "What? Jeez Tommy, I'm sorry." He pulled Thomas into a tight hug, Thomas let himself relax completely in the secure hold, resting his head on a strong shoulder. "Hey, its okay. Looks like the asshole got what was coming to him." 

Thomas smiled sadly against Newt's shirt, he had gone so long without being so close to the blonde. He held on tight, wrapping his arms around Newt's firm torso, pressing their bodies close together. It sounded bad, but Gally's gruesome fate felt just in his head for a life of such violent thuggery, good almost. He hoped the man experienced double the pain he had felt that night, even just half would suffice. The man's fate however was still unknown, and despite everything, Thomas couldn't bring himself to wish death on the man. 

"Do you think he's still alive Newt?"

Newt sighed, "Possibly, hard to say. Tommy, I know he did you wrong, and I hate him for it...but its my job to try and find him, and if he is alive, save him."

At that moment Thomas could not have adored his boyfriend more. He couldn't agree more, he hated Gally, but given the chance would he stand by and let him die? No, and neither would Newt. "I don't care about him." He shrugged casually in false bravado, sniffing back threatening tears. He felt ashamed at his own vulnerability, he was supposed to be strong for Newt, but instead he felt himself crumbling. "It just took me by surprise that's all, seeing his face after all that time. I overreacted is all." 

"Tommy, this is me you're talking to. You're upset, and its not just this. Tell me what's wrong." 

There was no hiding from Newt, and Thomas found himself glad to let himself go. He clenched himself around the blonde, quietly crying as his fingers writhed in the man's shirt fabrics, his tears dampening a pale, elegant neck. The warmth radiating from Newt made him feel safe, the hands rubbing over his back supported him. The day had piled so much on top of him, the wedding, the baby, Sonya, not to mention his busy workload. But the worst of all had been his lack of closeness with Newt, his boyfriend who he hardly saw despite them sharing a home together. The almost absent relationship had torn at him from the inside, and he had spent his time putting on a brave front for everyone. But now finally being so close to Newt it all spilled out of him in sudden emotion. He didn't realize how much he had been keeping pent up until now.

"I miss you Newt. I miss you so much." He sobbed unashamedly. "We hardly ever spend an evening together like this, and it was going so perfectly. Just you and me, I forgot all my worries and troubles. For a few hours it was just us, and it was so right, as it should be, in our own safe bubble. Now its been ruined. I'm sorry, I'm rambling, I guess all this stuff with Teresa, and the family... seeing Gally just tipped me over. Its just that I feel warm and safe with you, but the memories that face brought back pulled me back to cold reality." 

He pulled back to touch their foreheads together, Newt's eyes looked back into his, he saw his own teary eyes in the reflection of Newt's forming teardrops. "Truth is Newt, I need you. When I think of all the time we haven't spent together, it hurts. I know we love each other, which is why its so hard when you're not there. Tonight was wonderful, but most evenings here are lonely and cold. I guess... even I didn't realize how much I missed you."

Newt held his head in both his hands, thumbs caressing his cheeks, the simple touch alone making him feel blissful. "Bloody hell Tommy, I'm so sorry, I've been so selfish. I've put more time into work than into us, and its my fault." Thomas smiled faintly, the proximity alone between them making him feel happier. His eyes flickered in between  beautiful brown orbs and plum pink soft lips. He wanted to taste that mouth again, he wanted to map its interior walls with his tongue, to reacquaint himself with what he had gone too long without. 

He accepted Newt's apology by pushing him up against the cabinet, knocking off his discarded crystal tumbler that smashed to the floor. Neither of them noticed as they attacked each other's mouths with desperate neediness. Thomas' tongue became lost in the depths of Newt's mouth, his groin tightening as the blonde groaned his name into him. Once massaging hands on his back now dug in like talons, pulling at his t-shirt, Newt's weaker leg curled around his own, playfully rubbing up and down, grinding their hips together simultaneously. Thomas broke the kiss as their hardening arousal brushed, a pleasured moan purring from deep within his throat. Already he felt ready to explode, absence does indeed make the heart grow stronger, and so it would seem - make the cock more eager. 

"God Newt... I need you so bad right now." Newt smiled, wiping away the dried tear stains from his cheeks. Thomas returned the favour, clearing away the blonde's tears that had fallen during their heated kiss. The blonde slid past him, leading him to the bedroom by the hand, swaying his hips gentle as he moved - much to Thomas' enjoyment. Upon reaching the bed Newt turned around and grabbed him by the thick hair at the base of his skull, pulling them close together, noses and foreheads touching. 

"You need me? Then take me Tommy. Take me now."

Thomas was not usually one to disobey Newt's requests, let alone an order, and this was definitely one order he was more than happy to oblige. He made the love that had been engulfing him inside to the blonde beneath him, their bodies working in complete harmony with one another. The moonlight rippled through the window, reflecting smoothly off of their sweating bodies as their rocked to a slow, steady rhythm. Thomas lost himself completely, murmuring Newt's name over and over again as he buried his face in silky flaxen locks. 

The private sanctuary he had lost earlier had been found again, his mind happily focused on the man pressed up against him. Once their seeds had been spilt, they lay cuddled close together, Newt pressed up against his chest, his head resting on the blonde cushion. He traced his fingers down Newt's side, curving around one bare cheek before riding back up again. Newt shivered under the touch, but Thomas felt the content smile against his bare chest. 

"Tommy?" The sweet voice was slightly muffled, vibrating through Thomas, gently massaging him. "Yes?"

"I need you too. Never forget that." Newt pulled himself up so his face was level with his, their eyes even, their noses almost touching. "Its Friday tomorrow, I'll phone work in the morning, I feel a bug coming on." The blonde smiled at him before letting out a pathetically fake cough. "Its only one day, they won't miss me." He said when Thomas told him not to shirk off work for his benefit. " Besides, its to my benefit too. We can lie in together, have breakfast, its been a week since we've done that nearly, and before that I can't even remember."

"I will call Teresa, talk to her about your parents wedding invitation."

"When you're at work I'll go shopping, get all the food and drink for Sunday, it'll be nice to actually cook for friends again. We haven't had them round in ages."

"Don't forget Sonya is coming soon." Thomas felt a twang as their conversation dipped back into the problems he had faced that day. He was looking forward to spending Sunday evening with his friends and boyfriend, but the young blonde girl was a fly in that ointment that he could not get rid off. He was brought out of his dwellings by the husky voice that spoke so close to his ear that it tickled.

"I'll make sure I've got plenty for five, six if you consider Teresa is eating for two now."

"What are you going to do Saturday?" 

"Oh I'm sure work won't let me off the hook completely, they'll find something for me to work on in the eventuality that I feel better over the weekend, so I can catch up with he hours I'll miss tomorrow. Nothing urgent though I'm sure, they'll all be chasing up on - " He stopped short, his mouth flapped open, unsure of how to continue. "Gally." Thomas finished for him, gently bringing the blonde's jaw up with his finger. "Its okay, you can say his name, it doesn't bother me now."

Newt nodded, nudging their noses together. "Good, cause he shouldn't. Anyways, I'll probably swing by and see you at work, maybe get some lunch."

The weekend was sounding better and better, and for them it started now. Thomas cuddled in close to Newt, his eyes heavy as he let them close. He wasn't sure who fell asleep first, but when he woke Newt was right where he had been, snuggled up close and snoring ever so lightly as the morning sunlight dappled on his face. Thomas thought he had never seen anything more beautiful.

"G'morning Tommy." The tired voice gained his attention, and he realised he had been staring at Newt so wondrously he had not noticed the man had awoken. It had been a while since he had watched Newt wake up, and it was a sight he wanted to see more often. His long lashes batted as his eyes slowly fought against the new day's light. His hair was a perfect mess, and his voice was deep and throaty from not being used. "Morning beautiful, did you sleep well?"

Newt nestled back into him, reveling in the warmth that only a morning bed could offer. "Cuddled up to you, how could I not?" What's the time?" 

The room was bright, already filled with sunshine. A glance at the clock confirmed Thomas' suspicions. "Half nine almost, I should get up." Newt huffed, wrapping a arm around Thomas' waist, pinning him down as he nibbled on his neck. Thomas purred at the attention, "Mmmm Newt, I'd stay here with you like this all day if I could, but then who would run the shop?"

"Minho." Came a wet and muffled response. "Or one of the girls. Just not you." Thomas felt strange that it was him for once leaving Newt behind, strange, sad, and guilty. Was this how Newt felt every time he left? If so he did not envy the man, it was not a nice feeling to drag yourself away from the one you love, not when they were so free and eager to spend the day with you. Alas, there was no helping it, and he peeled himself away from the groping blonde to stretch his naked body as he stood up. 

"Now there's a sight." Newt's husky voice teased from behind him. 

Thomas growled, "Stop flirting, I'm hard enough as it is without your comments."

Newt's laughter filled the room, melting him a bit on the inside. "Hard Tommy? I can help you with that."

"You're terrible." Thomas groaned, secretly liking the horny Newt. He leaned down to kiss his boyfriend, before quickly shuffling backwards as Newt went to grab his enlarging member. His heart melted at the pouting face Newt sent him as he missed. "Now Newt, lets leave something for tonight hm? I'm going to take a shower, you wanna join me?"

Newt shook his head, giving Thomas an incredulous look. "How can you expect me to leave you alone in a shower? You're just asking for trouble. You go, I'll get breakfast started."

Climbing into the shower, Thomas let the hot water soak into his skin, massaging tired muscles as they began to wake up. He closed his eyes and remembered the night before, he felt the dumb grin on his face grow at the sweet memories. He washed his hair and scrubbed down his body, the sharp smell of mint refreshed his nasal passages, and his morning headache eased away. Last night he had let out his pent up frustrations, confiding in his lover, and now he felt much better for it. He found he no longer cared about Gally, dead or alive, he could not impact his life anymore. He thought of Teresa and the wedding, she would of course invite Newt's parents to the event, and he would enjoy its splendors with his new family. The weekend looked promising, and Newt seemed committed to making more time for him. 

He dried himself off and dressed in his usual work attire, the blue sky and bright sunshine promised a dry day, and Thomas felt his mood lift even more. Succulent aromas reached him as he pulled his shirt over his head, the sound of sizzling bacon was answered by his growling stomach. He found the kitchen to be empty, the bacon in the pan nearly burnt, and eggs broken in a frying pan with no heat under them. Confused he took the crispy bacon off the heat and padded softly into the lounge on still bare feet.  

"Newt?" He found the blonde sat hunched over, staring sadly at the coffee table in what seemed to be a trance. He was dressed in a simple white tank top and pyjama bottoms, his hair, untamed since the night before, stood up at angles. "You alright?"

"Postman's been." Newt mumbled dryly. He stood up numbly, and nudged past Thomas, slowly making his way back to the kitchen. Thomas let him go, opting to give him time and instead took Newt's place on the couch. On the coffee table where the other man had been gazing lay a plain brown envelope. It was addressed to both of them, the stamp notified him what the contents would inevitably be. He picked it up, running his fingers over the seal of the law. The day had finally come, after nearly five years, Alby was being released from prison. The face made him shudder, too many ghosts from the past were making themselves known in their house recently. Of course he knew the day would come, they both did, but it made it no easier to know the wicked man would be out there somewhere.

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at the concealing brown paper, but before he knew it Newt placed two plated down on the table, a small feast of eggs, bacon, tomatoes and fried bread. "Thanks for saving the bacon." Newt said as he sat down next to him, "I forgot all about it." He motioned with his head at the letter that Thomas still held in his hands. "Forget it Tommy, eat up."

"Forget it? Newt, we should open this now, together." It was important, and hiding their heads in the sand would do no good. He didn't know how the system worked, Alby might be released today, they might be letting them know he will be released in six weeks time, he had no clue. Newt just shook his head, his eyes were sad with acceptance of the situation, but he was obviously unwilling to face it. 

"We will, but not now. Please, can we just have this weekend? Just us and friends, together, no worries no concerns. We can face it next week." Newt's eyes pleaded with him, begged him even, and Thomas felt himself falling for them. He remembered how he felt when Gally's face popped up on the screen, he couldn't imagine how Newt must feel about his violent ex-boyfriends release. 

He abandoned his breakfast and wrapped an arm around the blonde, squeezing him close, Newt automatically leaning back into him. "Of course Newt." He picked up the letter and stood up to place it on the dining table, "Monday we'll open it together, agreed?"

Newt nodded, a small smile on his face that did not hide the fear in his eyes, it hurt Thomas to see the pain laced within those chocolate spheres. "Hey, forget it yeah? Like you said, lets enjoy the weekend. You're meant to be sick remember? Why don't you go back to bed and rest? I'll be back before you know it, with takeaway food in hand."

"Do you have to go?" Newt hugged himself, his food too sat forgotten in front of him, hardly touched. Thomas sat back down, embracing him gently, "I wish that I didn't babe, I really do. I won't be long, I'm sure Min won't mind covering my last hour again. You get some rest, catch up on all that overtime you've been doing okay? Newt nodded, the man was too quiet for Thomas, he knew the news would hit him hard, but the foresight didn't make it any easier. 

He left home with a heavy heart, already waiting for the day to end the moment he stepped out the door. He heard Newt bolt the door from the other side, and Thomas felt guilty for leaving him alone. The man who tried to kill him out of madness might be free, of course he would feel unsafe, but would this be their future? Looking over their shoulder for a man who may or may not be lurking there? He hoped not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Flour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alby takes a hold over Newt from afar, and Thomas struggles to cope with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, sorry, its just that it came to a point where a new chapter would make more sense than a reeeeeally long one.

Sunday morning dawned with grey skies of heavy cloud and rhythmic percussion of light rain. The weather however, had no power to dampen Thomas' spirits. Despite working, the last two days had felt like a vacation. Newt, as promised, was there waiting for him after each day, and had even found time to grace The Homestead with his presence Friday lunchtime. Harriet had rejoined the workforce after her sickness, and instantly befriended Newt with a discussion of her studies and his, both fascinated by the other; Thomas had found himself glad to drag Newt upstairs for lunch in a more private area.

He had found himself relieved when Newt left before Sonya had shown up for duty, prolonging their meeting until absolutely necessary. He quickly confirmed dinner plans with the girl before making a swift retreat before she could ask him any more questions that might delve into a longer conversation. That evening he phoned Teresa, receiving an enthusiastic invitation to the wedding for Mr and Mrs Newton, ' _That's a wonderful idea, I'm sorry I didn't think to ask, of course they can come!'_ He could tell just over the phone that she knew the reason for the request, but neither lingered on it, not wanting to spoil the happily made plans. That night he watched movies on the couch cuddled up to Newt, sharing a blanket and a tub of not melted ice-cream. 

The sound of the shower notified him of Newt's location. He found the bathroom door unlocked, and so went in to proceed with his morning routine. The room was steamy, Newt liked his showers hot, and he was humming melodically to himself as he washed. Thomas went about relieving himself, the crude sound of his stream splashing into the toilet water abruptly stopping Newt's private music. 

"Tommy? That you?" His head popped out of the curtain, his mop of hair wet and plastered down his face, eyes searching for the source of the noise. Thomas unabashedly finished his work before making himself decent and went to wash his hands. "Course its me, who else would it be?" Newt just stared at him for a few seconds before retreating back to the running water. "Never mind." Came the short reply. Thomas stopped a heavy sigh from leaving his lips before going to exit the room, only for Newt to call out to him again.

"Oh, there's a list of groceries on the fridge I need for dinner, could you go get them please?" The sigh escaped. Since the arrival of the letter, Newt had only left the house once, and then he had acted as a meerkat on the lookout for predators the whole time. The blond had become paranoid, each time Thomas had returned home he had found the front door double bolted, making him use both his keys to gain access. Even then the chain had been put on, and he had to verbally call out to Newt before he would come over to let him in. Now he seemed to think Alby might be creeping up on him in the shower, and had not stepped foot outside the house since Friday. It was a sudden down turn, and Thomas was worried at how rapidly it was happening. He had to try and spirit Newt out, the first step would be the hardest, he just had to make him take it. 

"I'd rather we go together. I'll only end up getting the wrong things, you know exactly what you need." 

"The list is detailed, even you can't get it wrong." His voice was filled with sarcasm, light and airy, but Thomas knew what a good show Newt could put on. To him it was plain as day that the blonde did not want to leave the safety of his own home, not even for a few groceries. Giving up, he quickly changed, opting for comfortable stone chinos and a long sleeved dark green top, before assessing the damage on the fridge. He plucked up the piece of paper, chuckling when he saw Newt hadn't been joking. The list was very detailed, the chicken itself was listed at a certain weight and size - even what farm it should have been sourced from. He slipped the list into his pocket and went about making himself breakfast - there was no way he was attempting the shopping alone. 

"Are you sure you're cooking for six? Because going by this there's at least fifteen guests coming." He said around a mouthful of french toast when Newt entered the room washed and dressed. His hair had been tamed, his sleeveless red hoodie and white tee contrasted nicely with his dark skinny jeans. 

"I like to have plenty of choice that's all. You going shopping? I wanna make a start soon." Thomas shook his head, wiggling the folded up list in his hand. 

"Not without you, come on, shoes on."

Newt visibly paled at his determination, and Thomas felt guilty for forcing the matter, as gently as he was doing it, he knew it would be rough on his partner. "Newt, the letter doesn't exist until Monday remember? Were still enjoying our weekend." Letter or no letter, the ramifications were still there, but despite this he hoped Newt would be able to put it to the back of his mind as long as the envelope remained sealed. "Look, the rain's stopped, lets dash out before it changes its mind." He held out his hand, leaving no choice but for Newt to take it. 

Few words were exchanged during their food gathering expedition. Newt pushed the trolley, keeping himself as close to Thomas as possible. The trolley banged into his side a few times from the proximity, but he stuck with it. He didn't bother Newt with idle conversation, instead letting him focus on coping with the situation. They walked from aisle to aisle, Thomas checking each item with Newt before adding it to the trolley. Before long, Newt became engrossed in finding the right ingredients, and he seemed to forget what had been playing on his mind.

"No Tommy -  _flat_ -leaf coriander."

"What's the difference?"

"Just... put it back and get the flat one okay?"

They paid for their shopping and Thomas drove them home, still reeling over how they had spent nearly one hundred and twenty dollars on food for one day. 

"Its not all for today Tommy, don't be ludicrous."

"I'm being ludicrous? That chicken is huge we don't need that much meat."

"That bird will last us for the rest of the week, now stop complaining." Newt sent him a wink. "Don't think I've ever had a relationship with a bird that lasted more than that, or one quite so tasty." 

Thomas smiled as he drove home, listening to Newt softly hum to the playing radio, as he had been in the shower that morning. The blonde was relaxed again, the short shopping trip taking things of his mind. As far as Thomas was concerned, they would have bought all the different kinds of coriander available if it helped. 

The shopping was heavy, eight bags between them. Thomas insisted on taking five - one of which contained the big bird. They rushed to the front door where, setting his bags down, Newt fished out his keys before attempting to unlock the dead-bolt lock nearer the bottom of the door. Thomas waited impatiently as the dead weight of the groceries pulled at his arm muscles, draining them dry.

"Thomas, you didn't lock the bottom lock." The tone was not good, and Newt quickly unlocked the other lock before walking in to dump his bags on the kitchen floor. Thomas followed sheepishly, gently lifting his bags up onto the counter. "Sorry, I didn't think."

Newt started unloading the bags, placing the goods onto a clear surface. Thomas dared not interfere, not knowing what the blonde would need now and what he would want put away. Instead he stood there, feeling useless as Newt opened and shut drawers and cupboard doors with a little too much force. 

"Anything you need me to do?" He asked tentatively.

Newt glanced at him as he released the chicken from her plastic confinements. "Maybe practice locking doors perhaps?"

Anger flicked through him at the curtness. "Don't speak to me like I'm an idiot Newt." It seemed  any help the shopping trip done had been eradicated by the simple lock, or rather the lack of locking. Whats more, the unnecessary drama was annoying him, and he couldn't help but defend himself against the paranoiac lash outs. "The door was still locked, don't get into a strop about it."

What had been a glance became an ice-cold glare. If Newt's eyes had been blue, Thomas felt he would have frozen there on the spot. "Trust me Thomas, this is not a strop." In his sudden frostiness, Newt had speedily put away the groceries and had retrieved weighing scales from a cupboard to start making what Thomas presumed was batter for Yorkshire puddings. "I just wish you'd be more attentive sometimes."

Thomas saw red, the comment had not just referred to home security, but implied an untrue fault on his own character as a whole. One which was uncalled for, after all that he had tried to do for his boyfriend. "Don't get bitchy with me because you're out of your own paranoid mind. Alby is not going to come and invade us like some saboteur one-man army because I didn't double-lock the door."

He didn't see the bag of flour coming. It him him square in the chest, the white powdery substance exploding up into his face, covering him completely. He coughed out what had entered his mouth, waving at the air in front of him as he slowly regained his vision. His eyelids sprinkled flour as he blinked, and looking down he could see he was covered from head to toe. He shook a hand through his hair, showering more of the white stuff around him. 

"Fuck you." Newt's words shot through him, the voice stone cold, dead. He heard the footsteps storm off upstairs, and the house seemed to tremble as the bedroom door was slammed shut with great force. 

 _Idiot._ Thomas chided himself. He couldn't remember Newt ever telling him to fuck off before, at least not seriously, and not with such coldness. If Newt hadn't been in a strop before, he certainly was now. Grabbing a clean tea towel he drowned it under a warm tap before mopping at his face, trying to de-flour his hair as much as possible over the sink. _Well done Thomas, nicely played._ He had let the situation get the better of him, instead of keeping his head low and letting Newt deal, he bit back and had gone too far. Drying his face, he glanced the letter sitting on the table, taunting him. He felt a reborn hatred for the bastard, and for himself for letting the mere rumor of him affect them so much. 

He contemplated on following Newt upstairs, but decided against him. _Best to let him be, I know that's what I'd want._ Instead he cleaned up the mess left by the flour, cursing as more fell from his clothing as he moved around, circling behind him as he went. He gave up once the worst had been cleared and stripped down to his boxers, dumping the powdered clothes into the washing machine. A chill ran through him, goosebumps littering his body. He contemplated going upstairs to get fresh clothes when he heard a noise behind him. 

He turned around to fine Newt staring at him. The blonde leant gently against the door frame, his eyes were red from crying and Thomas fell a hard force of guilt hit him in the stomach. 

"I'm sorry." He blurted out. "I didn't mean what I said, I-"

The wind was knocked out of him as Newt launched into him, pressing close against his body in a desperate embrace. A smoke of flour puffed out into the air from the impact, that which had somehow managed to cling to him despite the removal of his clothes. "Quiet Tommy." Newt said into his collar bone, his head buried there. "I'm sorry. I know you're only trying to help, and you're right. He's in my head and I can't get him out. I keep expecting to find him, round a corner, or behind a door, or here waiting for me. Its horrible. I shouldn't take it out on you though, I really am sorry."

Thomas hushed him, gently letting his hands run across the other's back. His chest felt hot and his heart pummeled inside it. "Its okay Newt, I lost my cool too. Do you want me to cancel dinner? We can do it another day."

The blonde mass shook from side to side. "No. This is our weekend, and I've let Alby interfere with it too much already. Our friends are coming, and I've got a dinner to cook."

"Sounds good to me." Thomas smiled, squeezing a little tighter around the body close to him.

"Oh Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Were gonna need more flour."

Thomas chuckled, "Okay, but I need some clean clothes first."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Roasting

Time flies when you are occupied or having fun. Thomas was having neither, the midday hours dragging on for an eternity. Newt was happily busy in the kitchen, not requiring his antics to get in his way, and so he had retreated to the living room to wait for their expected guests. Now well into the afternoon, he was sick of daytime television, and had long since given up on the book he had started on earlier. The aromas from the kitchen made his already starved stomach moan, knowing he was in for a grand meal he hadn't touched a morsel of food since breakfast, and idleness was only making the hunger worse. He was relieved when Newt called out, asking him to lay out the table.

It did not take long to do, but it was something to occupy him, and he took his good time over it. Choosing their best china, he laid out gold rimmed dinner plates, side plates, two sets of cutlery for each person, platter dishes, bowls, crystal wine glasses and water glasses. He quickly brushed down the six dining chairs, almost all of which would be made use of for the first time since they moved in, and lit the candles on their usual centerpiece. From the cabinet he retrieved two bottles of wine, one white, one red. The upcoming parents may not partake, but this home's residents liked a drink with their food. In one of the drawers he found clean linen napkins. He was busying himself attempting to transform the flat sheets into swans when the door bell rang. 

He had hoped his sister would arrive first, but he maintained a generous smile when he found Sonya on the opposite side of the door. He was glad for his deep blue formal shirt and jeans, making him feel not so under dressed next to the young student. She greeted him chirpily with a close hug, her sweet perfume engulfing his head in a shroud.

She slipped off her fur jacket as she sauntered in, hanging it on a waiting hook. Underneath she wore a knee length sleeveless dress of a blue annoyingly close to his own shade. Jet black heels added two inches to her height, rising her head level to his own, and her eyelashes were as full as her cheeks were rosy. A rose gold heart locket graced her swan-like neck, a fine matching bangle hung gently at her wrist. Her bright blond hair, slightly curled, spilled down elegantly around her shoulders.

"Don't we make a fine pair? Looking good in blue Thomas." She spoke happily as she openly eyed him up and down, making him wish he had chosen more baggier attire. "Nice pad you got here, very suave." She complimented as she walked from the hall, through the lounge and into the empty kitchen, her heels clicking against the hard floor. "Mmmm dinner smells lush, where's the chef?" She called back to Thomas, who had hung back in the other room.

"Newt's upstairs getting changed, did you want a drink?" He opened both bottles, pouring himself a large red, and filled another when she nodded. "Sorry, can I ask you take off your shoes, Newt hates scuff marks on the floor." 

"Of course! No problem." She walked over to the door, bending over to remove her heels. Her dress shaped perfectly around her bent over figure, bare legs straight, her snugly dressed rear displayed for him. He choked on his wine, turning away to recover from the shameless show. "You okay Boss?" She plucked her glass from his hand, clinking them together. "Cheers." 

Thomas swallowed thickly. "Yeah, Cheers." He took a large gulp, silently wishing Newt from upstairs. "Don't call me Boss, we're not at work, just makes me sound old."

"Well you're not young." She laughed, running a painted nail around the rim of the glass. "Not that you're looking bad for it."

He ignored the flirting with another swig. "Not young? I'm twenty five, don't put me in my grave just yet." She laughed again, a sweet sound that filled the room from behind red lips and white teeth. Her wine glass already marked with lipstick. "Shall we sit?" He gestured to the sofa, waiting for her to take a place on the sofa before sitting down on the separate armchair. 

Silence engulfed them, not uncomfortable, but not natural, scarily close to a first date. Thomas put his wine down on the coffee table, his glass was large and already half empty, and the evening still sat long ahead of them. Sonya seemed at ease, she sat up with her head slightly to one side, running a hand through her hair as it fell over her shoulder. 

"So." Thomas cleared his throat. "How's the project going?"

She blinked at him a couple of times before remembering her ploy. "Oh yes, got some great photos at that big party yesterday, that was some night wasn't it? I didn't like the company though, too smug and self-important. Not sure if I'll use those snaps though, I want to focus on the actual ground floor, you know - the actual coffee shop, where it all began. It had a certain warming appeal that the night life can't portray don't you think?"

He really had no idea, he wasn't a photography student. "I guess, so was there anything you wanted to know?"

Footsteps on the stairs took both their attention, Sonya pointed finger in the direction of the sound, winking at him. "It can wait."

Newt strolled into the room, stopping when he saw someone he had not met before sitting in his home. "Hello, you must be Sonya." He walked over to shake her hand, Sonya all smiles and bright eyes as always. "Nice to see Thomas has sorted you out with a drink already."

She giggled melodically. "You have him well trained, nice to meet you Newt." 

Thomas watched Newt pour himself his own white wine. The cook looked handsome in a deep green shirt and black jeans, all wonderfully tailored and fitted him perfectly. He wanted to grab him right there and sit him in his lap, but it felt sadly inappropriate with Sonya sitting opposite. Instead he let Newt sit down adjacent to the girl.

"Nice to meet you too Sonya. I've heard quite a bit from Tommy, nice to put a face to a name." Newt lied easily.

Sonya smiled at him, sugared and overly sweet. "Really? He's never really mentioned you." 

Thomas choked on his wine for the second time. He coughed out into his hand, feeling his cheeks radiating with heat as he got his air channels clear again. He recovered at the sound of Newt's warm laugh filling the room.

"For the best, I'm sure Tommy doesn't want to bore his staff out of a job." The relaxed reaction to Sonya's sass put him at ease and Thomas let himself sink into the comfortable chair. He now regretted not sitting on the sofa, where he could sit up close to Newt without looking ridiculous. The boldness of the young students' words irked him, but he could not argue against their eligibility. He didn't really know why he never mentioned Newt at work, not even when Minho was around. It wasn't a shun, it was just professionalism as he saw it. Newt was right, he was on a need to know basis, if they didn't need to know about him, then he didn't tell; not out of neglect, but out of privacy. 

"Well one thing I have learnt is that you're an excellent cook, or so my nose informs me." She continued, a compliment to make up for the failed snide of a comment. "What's cooking?"

A signature rhythm of taps knocked on the front door, echoing through and into where they sat. Thomas left Newt to sell his menu to let the missing members of the crew in, hopeful the additional company might take some of the weight off him from Sonya's pressing attention. 

Teresa swanned in, draping her arms around him in a familial hug, she placed a wet kiss on his cheek. "Sorry were a bit late, for all his recklessness, Minho is a snail on the road." Long silver earrings danced as she laughed, catching the light as they swung. She wore a simple black lace top that glittered in a similar way, matching nicely with snug jeans of the same colour. His sister was master of dressing finely without the need of a dress, or heels; she hated them, arguing who could possibly have a good time when their feet were in constant agony. She slipped off her simple black Converse, and carried on to end the awkward silence that had settled in. 

Thomas took Minho's hand as he heard more compliments of Newt's cooking chirp from down the hall. Minho, in a plain grey shirt and light jeans, passed him a bottle of wine. "For the Chef." He smiled, taking the appreciation gift. "Cheers, it'll be put to good use I can assure you." They joined the rest of the group in the room to find Newt had escaped back into the kitchen, leaving his sister to make forced small talk with Sonya. He was glad of Minho's company, he worked the most with the girl, and got on well with her, unlike his frosty sister who had recently taken a disliking to the perky blonde.

"Hey Minnie!" Sonya chirped, smiling broadly at the nickname. "Hey Son, hows it going, haven't seen you in what? 12 hours? How have you coped so long without me?"

Teresa rolled her eyes at the banter. Thomas saw Newt had already sorted her a pomegranate juice drink, as she took it with her to investigate the kitchen. After asking Minho's drink request, he followed her, leaving the two friends to carry on with their pleasantries. He watched Newt and his sister converse happily with each other as the roasted potatoes were taken out of the oven by one, and the red cabbage was turned out onto a dish for another. The two had not always seen eye to eye in the past, but it meant the world to him that his sister approved of Newt. To see them chat so lightly and easily in such a domesticated setting - like family, meant the world to him. 

"Hey you." Newt noticed him lurking in the doorway. "Everyone ready to eat?"

He grabbed a coke from the fridge, an immature urge to shake it before taking it back to his friend almost overcame him. "Think so, I know I am. Starved myself all day for this." He plucked a potato out, juggling the hot food in his hand as he blew on it before popping it in his mouth. "Shi-" He opened his mouth as far as he could without spilling its contents, blowing air over his tongue. "That's hot." He popped open the cold coke in his hand, downing half of it in one gulp, swishing the liquid around his burning mouth.

"Oh poor Thomas." Teresa lengthened his name in a pitying voice as she pinched his cheek, making him step back in recoil. "Is Newt not feeding you properly?"

Newt had to wait until he could stop laughing before he could speak. "He does alright. Tommy if I start plating could you take them out to the table?" 

He nodded to avoid spraying soda, grabbed a replacement can and returned to sit their guests around the table. Teresa followed him, grabbing hold of his wrist in the doorway. 

"You need to watch that girl Thomas." She whispered in his ear harshly. "She's trouble." He swallowed, tensing himself for the inevitable rant. 

"What do you mean trouble?" He asked innocently, wishing he could brush her off whilst knowing it to be an impossibility. 

"You know exactly what I mean, she's hung up on you. Young and stupid, she sees Newt as an obstacle, and you as a challenge. And I know how stupid you can be when you're vulnerable." 

The remark shocked him still as Teresa carried on past, raising her voice to strategically usher the others in their seats. Sonya ended up at the end adjacent to Minho and Teresa who sat opposite each other. Of course he had noticed Sonya's advancements on him, how could he not? The girl was hardly subtle, she made her ambitions as plain as day. But for his own sister to suggest he could let something happen? Because he was vulnerable? He regretted mentioning his previous concerns about his relationship with her.

"Tommy? You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?" Newt poked him in the back playfully. "Whose ready to eat?" He called out to a chorus of eager mouths. Thomas's own mouth was salivating as he carried out the miniature banquet. By the time he had finished carrying everything in, the table was littered with sumptuous  offerings of delicious food begging to be eaten. A grand bird sat bronzed, glazed with honey and stuffed with lemon and garlic, clear juices ran free as he carved into it, running down the crisped skin. An array of side dishes decorated the table. Sprouts with chestnuts, spiced red cabbage, braised broccoli stems, cauliflower with paprika, potatoes roasted in duck fat, and goliath yorkshire puddings stood proudest among them all. Jugs of beef gravy, white sauce, and mint sauce finished off the buffet.

"Newt this looks amazing." Minho stared in awe as Thomas piled food onto his plate. Once everyone was seated he rose his glass. "To friends, to the chef."

Newt rose his own glass in response. "More importantly, to Minho and Teresa, congratulations on your wonderful news." Their glasses chimed together in a light chorus, and Thomas forgot about Teresa's comment, about the awkwardness with Sonya, and enjoyed the heavenly food and good company. The food went down well with everyone, and for some the drink went down even better. By the end of the meal Sonya had polished a bottle of wine to her self. Her voice had become loud, and high laughter flowed freely from her mouth. 

Thomas had a couple of glasses himself, and with a full stomach, his bladder soon took him upstairs. He left Minho and Teresa clearing the table, and Newt withstanding a drunken Inquisition from Sonya about his job. He sent Newt a look of pity as he departed for the bathroom. He felt content as he made room for his pudding, his arms felt light from the wine, his eyes heavy with contentment. The bathroom was dark except to a row of tea lights along the windowsill above the bath, creating a calming ambiance that brought him dangerously close to sleep. 

At the basin he splashed water on his face, before exiting to bump into Sonya on the dim landing. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol she had drunk, her eyes brights as a cats in the shadows. He innocently assumed she was waiting to use the bathroom when soft lips forced themselves onto his. His body and mind slow to react, he let her push him into the corner, her tongue sneaking into his open mouth. Her hands closed around the fabric of his shirt, pulling at it dangerously. The kiss was short but sweet, like a wine gum rolling along his lips. His mind caught up and he pushed her away a little too roughly. She caught herself on the staircase banister, panting from her achievement, she gaze at him through smoldering eyes.

"You taste good Thomas." She licked her thumb before rubbing it along his mouth. He flinched away, rubbing at the mouth with the back of his hand. He tried to look at her in disdain, but found himself without the courage to do so. She let out a smirk of a laugh. "You had lipstick, don't want Newt finding out now do we?" She whispered as she walked into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her.

Thomas slowed padded downstairs, his feet guiding him down safely through memory rather than direction. He felt awful. The kiss was of Sonya's implementation, but he had let it happen. He had let the soft lips and sweet taste roll over him before pushing away. He had reacted. He had betrayed. As he reached the bottom step all he wanted to do was cry, but he couldn't. There was still pudding to endure before the night was done.

He was guiltily pleased to find Newt not present at the table, still faffing out in the kitchen with dessert. Teresa and Minho were sat close to each other at the table, sharing a private discussion. They broke apart when they saw him, Teresa giving him a strange look.

"You okay Thomas? You look like you've seen a ghost." 

He nodded weakly, resuming his place at the table. "Yeah I'm good." He lied. "Stomach's sore is all."

"Did you eat too much?" Teresa asked, genuinely concerned. After his night-time encounter with Alby and Gally, his stomach had never been able to handle a large amount of food again. Tonight wasn't the case, he knew how to pace himself, and had left room for dessert. Though pudding would have to go amiss now if the charade was to continue.

"Maybe, I'll be okay."

"More pudding for me then." Sonya said as she rejoined them. "More wine anyone?" She asked as she walked over to the cabinet.

"Haven't you had enough?" Teresa asked. "Perhaps you should bring your own if you're going to drink the river dry."

The girl simply rolled her eyes. "I'll bring a couple of bottles next time. We'll make a night of it."

 _Next time? She must be joking._ Right then all Thomas wanted to do was send her packing, but he couldn't, not in front of everyone, not without a reason. He had a reason, but not one he wanted to publicize. 

 "What's this?" Sonya asked, plucking a brown envelope from the top of the cabinet. Thomas paled as he saw the thick set letter waving in her hand, he thought he had stashed it away safe enough, but the drunken girl had probably found it through her unashamed nosiness. "Looks important."

"It's not." He said quickly, his eyes flashed over to the kitchen to watch out for any sign of Newt. He would not appreciate the letter being waved around like that in front of everyone. 

"Its from the court." Sonya stated. "It must be important." She let out a dramatic gasp, "Thomas what did you do? You been a naughty boy?" She winked at him knowingly.

Teresa sat her glass down, folding her arms on the table in front of her. Ignoring the young girl, she looked to her brother next to her. "Thomas? You never mentioned anything, did it come today?"

He sent his sister a pleading look, desperately trying to get the message across. When her gaze didn't let up he gave up, the brother-sister connection seemingly not working. He blamed the alcohol he'd drunk for the mental mis-communication. "Thursday, were gonna open it tomorrow, Newt just needed some time." He whispered low to his sister, hoping the conversation would move on if Sonya didn't hear.

Regardless of whether she heard or not she brought it back to the table with her, slapping it down on the table. "Well I think you should open it now. It might just be jury duty, you can't shirk off jury duty. Unless you really have been a bad boy?"

Thomas wanted to yank the letter away, but it was firmly in the grip of the drunk girl's hands. "Minho, could you give Newt a hand in the kitchen?"

"Its only apple pie and ice cream Thomas, I'm sure he's coping fine." He flinched suddenly, and judging by the look he gave Teresa, his fiancee had just kicked him hard under the table. Maybe the sibling telepathy was tuned in. "Okay okay, I'll go." As his friend walked behind him he grabbed his arm gently. "Stall him Min."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it, please." 

Minho sighed, "Fine, I don't know what's going on but I'll try. Not quite sure how much time you'll get though." With that he walked off into the kitchen. "Hey Newt, thought I'd make a start on the dishes for you." Minho's voice sounded out loud for Thomas' benefit. He couldn't hear Newt's response, he spoke at a normal volume, probably wondering why Minho had decided to shout an offer to help at him; subtlety had never been one of the Asian's strong point. 

He returned his attention to the girl who was turning the letter around in her hands. She had more than crossed the line with the kiss already, drunk or not, he could never forgive her for this if it got out of hand. 

"Sonya, give me the letter." He held his hand out firm and flat, keep his face hard with seriousness. The mischievous pixie went to place it in his open palm, before tucking it under the left breast of her chest, giggling in her usual grating shrill. 

"Come and get it Thomas.""

Teresa slammed her hand down on the table, making both of them jump from the loud noise. In a flash she reached over the table and plucked the letter from the blue dress, catching a lock of blonde hair as she did so, pulling it back with her. "Ow!" Sonya rubbed at her hair where the rogue strand had been ripped out. 

"Oh be quiet." Teresa hissed. "Newt's spent all day cooking you a lovely dinner, and all you've done is flirt with his boyfriend and rife through his mail."

"More than flirt actually." She had the audacity to wink at him as she blew a kiss across the table. He felt his face burn under his sister's sudden gaze. 

"Thomas you didn't..."

"No I did not. She did." He wiped his mouth, clearing the memory of the forced drunken kiss that suddenly touched his lips. "Look, forget it, can we just finish this evening with some sort of civility?"

"Jeez Thomas, relax." Sonya's jewellery chimed as she rearranged her hair casually. "Forget it."

"Forget what?"

Despite her ignorance, Sonya froze alongside Teresa and himself at the dulcet British accent that rang through the room. Newt walked over to the table, placing a large home-made apple pie down. Minho followed close behind, placing a jug of double cream and a bowl of vanilla ice-cream next to the pie, the same look of confusion he had worn earlier still evident on his face. The smell of hot pastry and sweet apples and cinnamon warmed the room, but Thomas felt a chill run right through him as Newt's eyes rested on the protruding envelope in Teresa's hand. 

"Why do you have that?" His sister was not one usually lost for words, but right then her mouth gaped open and close as she struggled to form a sentence. He himself found his voice had abandoned him when Newt looked at him with hurt eyes. The mounted candles were reaching the end of their life, the dying flame flickering in the deep brown orbs, a final spark of light in a dark abyss.

"What is it?" Poor Minho innocently inquired as the only ignorant one in the room. He stood awkwardly at Newt's side, unsure where to put himself. The sudden tension was palpable; even Sonya looked caught out and ashamed.

"I found it when I went to get more wine." She admitted openly. "I'm sorry, my mum always told me I was too nosy for my own good. Forget about it, I'll put it back."

She offered out her hand to Teresa as he had done for her, this time his sister was the one to withdraw the letter closer to herself. She stared at Newt with a genuine look of concern that made the Brit take an unconscious step back. "Newt, I know, you're scared, but you can't ignore this."

"Were not." Thomas cut in to defend his boyfriend whose eyes had gone as wide as a deer's in headlights. "We were going to open it tomorrow, now can we leave this business?"

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Minho pleaded again.

Teresa finished her soft drink, her mind not blunted by alcohol on behalf of her unborn child. "This, dear fiancee, is a letter from court, addressed to Newt and Thomas, left unopened and found by our new drunken friend."

Sonya's slurry objection was drowned by Minho. "What? Why? When was it delivered?"

"Couple of days ago." Newt stated in monotone. "Anyone for pie?"

His desperately weak attempt to move the subject on was only answered by Sonya, who apparently did want more pie. Teresa and Minho continued to pile pressure as Newt forcibly carried on, dishing out portions of apple pie. Thomas' heart was in his mouth as he watched his sister and best friend commence a verbal onslaught on them. He could only watch solemnly as the fiery debate went on to the background sounds of the young teen's appreciative chewing on fruit and crust. 

"You guys should open it." She said around a spoonful of ice cream.

"This is none of your business." Newt snapped. The girl just shrugged dismissively, her pudding done, she went back to her wine. Minho had sat back down next to the mother of his child, leaving Newt standing alone at the end of the table. He looked unnerved and uncomfortable. Thomas stood to stand close to him, wrapping a supportive arm around his waist. Newt leaned in instinctively hugging him gently back.  He ignored a dirty look from Sonya, the wine making her unbearably cocky and outward in her affections towards him. Right then, between the camera, the kiss and the letter, he hated the girl. 

His angry thoughts dissipated as he heard the tearing of paper. "Teresa what are you doing?" His sister had apparently had enough,and wasn't taking no for an answer; taking it in to her own hands to free the letters from its paper prison. Newt's whole body tensed against his as any chance of saving the evening went up in smoke. 

"Doing what you should have done as soon at this thing came through your door. You can't hide from this, it was going to happen eventually."  The room fell silent as she opened the letter, making herself the first to read its contents. Thomas watched her, trying to read her expressionless face as she read. Her eyes seemed to harden, and when she was done she silently handed the paper to him. 

Newt moved away as he read, the warmth of his body was gone, but the intense heat from fixated eyes burned right into him. Not just Newt's, he felt everyone's set on him, as he re-read what his mind had refused to take in on the first read through.

"Tommy?" Newt asked quietly. 

Shock froze him, his breath leaving his lungs before he could use it to vocalize his thoughts. He looked up, first at Minho's curious eyes, to Teresa's sad ones. He knew she was as surprised as he was, and probably now guilty for exposing it all for everyone to see. He made himself turn to Newt, eyes filled with fear and anticipation, and it hurt Thomas so much to relay the information. He didn't understand it, the court must have been behind on their paperwork, or something had gone awry, but there it was in front of him in black and white. 

"Newt... according to this, Alby was released from prison six weeks ago."

His blonde physically crumpled at the news, falling into his seat as his legs gave way underneath him. Thomas had seen the effect of the letter on Newt over the weekend. He had recoiled  into the shelter of their home, constantly watching behind his back and had found a new obsession with locking doors. Now he could only imagine what state of mind this new news could push him to. He offered out his hand, relieved when Newt took hold, his hand clamping down painfully, but Thomas maintained the contact. 

The candles reached the end of their life, tendrils of smoke wafted through the air with a burnt fragrance. Newt's eyes were almost black, distant and void. 

"Newt?" He asked tentatively. 

"I'm sorry." Teresa said quietly. "I shouldn't have opened it." 

Silence quilted them, the air thick with tension. Newt was gone, frozen, and Thomas was lost as to what to do. 

"What's the big deal?" Sonya broke the silence. Thomas winced at the girl's attitude, oblivious of how hurtful her words were. "Who is he anyway?"

"This has nothing to do with you, just drop it." Teresa hissed across the table. 

"I'm just saying, chill out a bit about it."  Sonya bit back as she reached out for the wine bottle she had brought back with the envelope. Newt got there first, whipping it out of her reach and slamming it heavily onto the table. Thomas jumped slightly, surprised the glass bottle did not give way under the collision.

"Get. Out." 

Newt's eyes were alive again, cold and hard. The words spat out of his mouth, short and dead, leaving no question.

"Sorry?" Sonya questioned.

"Out. Everyone. Get out. Now."

"Newt... I'm sorry... I only-" Newt cut Teresa off, demanding them to leave again. Minho stood quietly in peaceful understanding, escorting the girls towards the door. Thomas followed them, giving Newt space alone at the table. Sonya wobbled drunkenly out once she had her heels out. She threw herself over him in a farewell hug, laughing silly. He shrugged her off, ignoring her hurt expression as he guided her out the door, glad to be rid of her. 

Teresa hugged him warmly. "I'm sorry Thomas, I didn't mean to make a show of it. I hope you and Newt can forgive me." She looked genuinely distraught, her voice sad and shamed. "I've ruined a lovely evening, and he had worked so hard." 

"Hey its okay." He reassured her. He honestly did not blame his sister, nor hold any hard feelings against her. "It wasn't your fault, you were only trying to help the situation."

He caught Minho by the arm. "Min?"

"Yeah?"

"Sonya is not to work the day-shift ever. I don 't want her working with me again." He couldn't sack her, but he could make working there difficult for her. 

"Hey Thomas, she got a little drunk. She did wrong, but don't flip out too hard on her. Besides, she's our day cover, and you're our night cover. Any sickness or holiday and were gonna need you to work with her to cover all bases."

Thomas was glad his sister had gone on to the car without her fiancee. The less people who knew about the kiss the better.

"Just, make it happen okay? I'll sort out the logistics later. I'll see you later." 

"Okay buddy. Good luck." Minho clapped him on the shoulder before leaving to drive Teresa and the intoxicated Sonya home.

He found Newt in the kitchen, scrubbing out a saucepan angrily in hot soapy water. Newt heard him, but did not look at him when he spoke.

"I thought I said get out."

The words took him aback. "What? You want me to leave as well?"

"I said everyone didn't I?"

"Newt, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry about Sonya. I'm sorry about Teresa. I'm sorry about everything. But I am not leaving. I know, Alby terrifies you, and I don't blame you for that. But don't turn me away, I'm here for you, I will always be here for you; whether you want me there or not. You are not going through this alone. I'm not going to say I know what you're going through, but he affected my life too. And Gally, I freaked out at just his photo, but you were there for me. Let me do the same for you Newt. Please."

Newt's frigid walls collapsed. He ran into Thomas, holding on to him so tight. Thomas just stood there, wrapping the broken blonde in his arms. 

"I don't want you to go Thomas. I've just been so scared. I knew he was already out, when I saw that letter something told me he had already been released. But six weeks? God knows where he's been all this time, what he's been doing, who he's been watching? It terrifies me."

The man shook in his arms, trembling at the thought of Alby. It angered Thomas so much, after all this time the man still had an iron grip over them, whether intentionally or not. 

"Newt, it pains me to say it, but Sonya did have a good point. He's been out for six weeks. Surely if he was going to make himself known, he would have done it by now?" 

Newt shook his head, his hair tickling Thomas' chin. "Maybe, maybe not. I don't know, that's what makes it so hard. I just wish I knew where he was, at least then I would know. I can deal with what I know, its the unknown that scares me."

Thomas kissed the top of Newt's head, burying himself in the soft locks. "You don't have to be scared Newt. I'm here for you, I'll protect you."

"I know Tommy. I know." 

He kissed Newt warmly. All he could do was be there, for Newt to lean on, to confide in, to know he had someone solid there for him to let all his feelings out to. It felt good that Newt was able to do that with him, to let go of his hard front and show his true feelings. 

"Come on, lets go to bed. Tomorrow's a new day yeah?"

Newt nodded, smiling for the first time since he had seen the letter in Teresa's hands. Snuggled up together in bed, Thomas kissed him again, something he could never get enough of. "Don't be too mad at Teresa, she didn't find the letter, she was just trying to help that's all."

"I know, it just took me by surprise. Everyone there, looking at me, even that Sonya girl, I just felt awful."

Thomas pulled Newt in close, the blonde's head resting on his chest, their legs entwined together. "Forget about it. Teresa and Minho only want to help, and Sonya means nothing." Newt's weight was comfortable on top of him, warm and loving, and he felt sleep pulling him down into darkness. "I love you Newt, things'll look better in the morning, you'll see."

He never heard Newt's reply, sleep finally taking him, but he didn't need to hear it to know it. "Love you too Tommy."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Newt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of Newt time, lets see how he's doing shall we?

The coffee from the lab's vending machine was weak and watery, and did nothing to help him focus on his work. Newt ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he looked down at the large and illuminated glass table, his eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to waken them up. He tried to ignore the growing head ache, probably born from tiredness, frustration, or dehydration, and kept his mind on the task at hand. Sprawled over the transparent surface were laminated photos of collected tracks left by cars. The recent devastating traffic accident had involved eight vehicles across two lanes, and had resulted in six tragic fatalities. The case had taken their team's full priority. As the ambulance took away the seriously injured and the dead, the police questioned those lucky enough to be alive. It fell to Newt and his colleagues to find out what had transpired, how, and find any fault if there was fault to be found.

The task was laborious, each car's tread patterns were as individual as a fingerprint, will very slight differentiates to tell them apart. Deciphering what print belonged to which car was difficult enough; using the information to map out the course which each vehicle took towards its fiery collision was near impossible. The accident had only happened last night, and the prints were taken fast; but mud, blown leaves and dust particles still skewed the prints enough to leave him dubious as to whether he had the right car to the right tracks. The table was covered with a projection of the road in question. He placed the shots where he thought they belonged, marking them with a black marker to indicate their owners. He had half the story, but it had several contradictions that halted his progress, threatening to undo his work if he could not figure out how to resolve them. After all, no matter how fast it was going, the blue Mercedes could not have been on both sides of the road at the same time.

He slowly walked around the central table as he went over what he had already worked out for the sixth time, trying to find another possible route that did not end up in a dead end. The room, like all rooms in the lab, was made up of four glass walls. Between them ran carpeted corridors, meandering around the square rooms. All around him others were busy in their own labours, just as engrossed as he was as they worked on their own cases. The florescent lights that ran across the ceiling were bright and strong to look at, and the magnified spectacles he was wearing made them even more so to his tired eyes. He finished his sixth coffee, between them probably only juicing him with the same amount of caffeine one decent cup would have, and was contemplating getting another when the unmistakable vacuum noise brought his attention to the room's double doors as they were pushed open.

Ava Paige looked as stern as she was graceful as she slowly aged through to her mid-forties. Newt had known her for nearly six years, and they had formed a special friendship that could only be formed between two people of such an age gap working with death and blood. She was the leader of their crime team, and some what of a mentor to him in his rookie years as a crime investigator; she still was in many ways. Her navy blue skirt swished as she walked over to the wall counter he had resigned to reclining on as he mused on his workings. She wore a suit jacket of the same blue over a simple high-neck white blouse and she wore her now grey hair pinned up into a neat bun under an ornate golden hairpin. 

"I would ask how you are getting on, but I think your face tells me all I need to know." She offered a wry smile. "I take it progress is slow?"

He gave his boss a reproachful look, feeling half ashamed at how little he had been able to achieve. He usually flourished at this kind of work, he saw them as puzzles of the most intricate kind, and relished in solving them. 

"Slow is an optimistic word, I haven't made a dent. The further I go, the more lost I become. Perhaps a fresh pair of eyes would help."

He hated requesting aid in situations like this, and did not pose it as a plea, only as a statement. He knew the answer would be negative anyway, the rest of the team were out on the field, Dominic swapping with him so he could remain office based. He owed Ava that, Dominic was their newest member of the team, young and lab-based as Newt once was, he had very little field experience. 

Since the revelation of Alby's long release period, Newt had found himself unable to cope with being outside, especially on his own. He knew it was a ridiculous notion, but he could not shake the idea of Alby waiting around a corner to get to him, to do what - he could only imagine in terror. Thomas did his best to help, and Newt appreciated everything his partner did, but his own imagination plagued him too much. 

Newt owed Ava a lot, she had been there before, when times got rough, and now again she had agreed to accommodate his situation into their work routine. She allowed Newt to come off the field and remain based at the laboratory, whilst the rest of the team were dispatched out. They all did so without complaint, even Dominic, they all quietly knew his situation, and worked around it happily enough. Thomas did his bit too, he drove Newt to and from work every day, and comforted him in whatever way he could. Teresa and Minho he had not spoken to since he chucked them out of his home two weeks before. He felt guilty, they had only tried to help to make the best of a bad situation, but he had not been able to bring himself to approach them. He owed all of them so much, and still he felt powerless to help himself. 

Ava looked at him with soft, knowing eyes. "I have no-one to spare Issac, why don't you go home early? Get some rest. You've been working tirelessly, it must be draining on you."

It was early in the afternoon, Thomas would not be leaving work for hours yet, and he would not brave the buses back home. It made him feel sick as how helpless he had become, so reliant on his boyfriend for safety and support. Even if he did reach home, he would not be able to rest until the brunette joined him there. During the night, even with Thomas there by his side, warmth emitting from his body, the noises that can only be heard in the stillness of night kept him too much on edge to sleep. Slumber had evaded him for two weeks now, his anxiety too much to allow him to relax.

In truth, it was working on complexions such as the one on the table in front of him that put him most at ease. The concentration required took up all of his mind's attention, enabling him to forget all other concerns. He had even spent a couple of nights working at the lab, its constant security watch enough to put him at ease. He knew it disappointed Thomas if he did not come home, and so he only stayed on if he felt an absolute need to. 

"I'm fine, just need a break that's all." He said, rubbing his eyes again. "I'd say did you want a coffee too, but I'm not quite sure what is exactly in our vending machine."

His boss smiled, "There's a  nice coffee shop a couple of blocks away, why don't you take a walk in the fresh air, clear your head, this will look clearer after some time away."

"I'd rather not." Newt appreciated the sentiment, but it was out of his capabilities. "Besides, we need this done yes? I'll figure it out."

She glanced at the mess on the table, uncatalogued prints in a messy pile on one corner, black marker streaks organizing the few he had been able to place. "You have your ways. I won't question them." Newt smiled for the first time that day. He had worked for Ava a long time now and he had grown under her tutelage, and in turn she had learned and accepted all of his set ways of going about things. She advised him, let him make his mistakes, and pulled him up if he went too far, but overall they had gained a vast respect for one another. Of their team he was their longest serving, and she knew him the most. 

"Actually I was hoping to catch you on a break, there's something I need you to see." Her voice was serious and she turned and left the room without another word. Newt swallowed the remainder of his drink before discarding the plastic cup in a bin. Whatever it was Ava wanted to show him, it was serious. He followed her quickly, the sound of her heels hard against the carpet as they rounded two corners and into the modest box room that was Ava's office. 

As head of the department, she was the only one to stake claim on an office. Newt shared a larger room with his four other colleagues, each with just enough space for their own desks to cram all of their files and folders into. Ava's desk was a grand dark oak on four sculpted legs. The wall behind it was filled with bookcases, cleverly allowing her one wall which no-one would be able to see through into. The lights were dimmer in here, and Newt felt a relief as he took of his glasses. Thomas had caught him with them on one evening as he had forgotten to remove them before meeting him at the lobby where the brunette picked him up. Thomas had declared how adorable the framed lenses on him, right in front of the onlooking secretary; Newt pinched the bridge of his nose at the embarrassment of the memory. 

"What is it that's so important?" He asked, standing near the door that had closed behind him. Ava pulled open the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a plain white shoe box. It had been sealed by parcel tape which had since been cut open, and the address of their building was typed onto a label on the lid; marking it for the attention of Ava Paige, CSI. She placed it gently in the middle of her clear desk. From there he could see the bottom corners of the box had sagged slightly, but apart from that nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. Nothing except the grave look on Ava's face.

"I received this package this morning, and I've been trifling over how to deal with it ever since. Eventually I decided the best person I could divulge its contents to safely, was yourself."

Newt blinked. "Divulge safely? Ava, what is it?" It was a bad sign if Paige herself felt unsure as to what to do. For her to console something to him and him alone could not mean anything good. He eyed the still mysterious box apprehensively, unsure whether he wanted to know any more or not. 

"Isaac I have kept the contents of this box strictly to myself until now. I will have to feed the information soon enough to the right authorities, and the press will no doubt have a field day. For now though, I need you to keep this strictly between just us two, no-one else. Not until I can rule out a few possibilities."

Newt had never heard or seen his boss so  unsure in all his time working under her; it unsettled him. Something had rattled her, and whatever it was it could not be good. He took the chair in front of the desk, sitting opposite his boss, the box loomed between them - its importance making it seem bigger than it actually was; more foreboding. 

"You can trust me, I won't say a word." He said reassuringly. 

Ava nodded gravely. "Prepare your nose." She said before lifting the lid off of the container.

Newt understood what her last words meant, the stench was thick and claggy, engulfing his nostrils before he could even look at the culprit of the fetid aromas. The smell was worse than the sight, though neither was pleasant. He felt his multiple coffees gurgle in his stomach, and he fought his gag reflex that he had learned to tame over the years. Ava held a clean white handkerchief over her mouth, but her expression remained unchanged as Newt gazed at the parcel's innards.

The hand had been sawn off, judging by the flat face of the ulna bone jutting out from the base of the pale flesh, perhaps with a hacksaw he wagered. Dried blood covered the stump, dark, almost black as it had congealed over time. The shoe box itself had been lined with thick cardboard. The fingers had been spread out, each one nailed to the base with a single small nail through the base of the cuticle. The back of the hand faced the ceiling, and lacerated into its skin, probably with a stanley knife or a similarly sharp object, were one number and one word. 

"Four weeks." He said quietly to himself. The contents shook him inside, it was the last thing he would have guessed and the message made it ever the more sinister. "This was sent directly to you?" He half whispered.

Ava sat with her elbows on the desk, her fingers crossing over each other as she looked down at the severed hand. "Yes. Though I am not sure what it could mean. It is clearly some sort of message, a deadline perhaps."

"A threat?" Newt pressed. "If it is then we need to act quickly, we can't hide it, we need to let our highers know."

"No," She said coldly, cutting him off. "More than likely it is a threat of some sort. Against me? Perhaps, or maybe the entire department. Any fool could find my name on the right website, even yours, even Dominic's. The question is what is it threatening? The message is vague at best, all I can determine is that something will happen in four weeks time. But what? And is there anything we can appease them with to stop it from happening?"

Newt tentatively brought the box towards him to take a closer look at the rotten flesh.  _No, not rotten, not yet._ The skin was pale, with a slight tint of yellow almost inked into it. The fingernails were dark and black where the nails had been hammered through them, the thought made his own fingers shudder. He wondered if the hand had been nailed in before it had been detached, and if it's owner had been alive at the time. That thought made his whole body shudder.

"It can't be a demand, they haven't stated what they want or where to take it. There's no direct threat of any consequences once the time is up, only that there is some sort of time restriction. Ava, I'm not sure what you want me to do about this."

"I have a hunch, and I would like you to follow it up with a quick investigation, on the sly. First though, what are your initial conclusions based on the condition of the hand?"

Newt rose an eyebrow,  _a pop quiz? Now?_ Surely she would know the answer, why mess around with him? He wasn't a rookie anymore, she didn't need to test his observation as she used to. Still, he inspected the hand closely, taking in every small detail as he turfed over the dead skin. 

"The box is clean considering its contents, the blood has congealed suggesting it had been detached a while ago. The skin is in good condition though, no signs of early decomposition. Its pale, almost yellow in places, and there's an under-laying smell behind the decaying scent... like a vinegar. At a guess I'd say its been preserved before it was sent out, but not for long, the skin is still smooth - no wrinkles."

Ava nodded as she place the lid on the box once more, hiding the hand again. Newt was suddenly glad of the bookcases that ran along the wall, it was hard to keep a secret in so many glass boxes. "My musings exactly, but I need you to confirm them. I have a hunch that this might be linked to the leg we found in the canal. See if the DNA matches, and just how long ago the hand was taken from its host. You must do it with caution Issac, I do not want anyone to know until I have some solid facts to present."

Her light eyes bored into his, desperate for help. Questions would be asked if she would busy herself with such menial tasks as DNA analysis, but Newt was known for his lab work, and would be able to go about it with no interruptions from curious colleagues. 

"Of course, I'll get about it right away."

"Thank you Issac. The hand must stay in here with me though, you'll need to extract what evidence you need from here. Be quick, the longer I keep this under cover, the worse it will look when it gets out."

Newt nodded in silent understanding. He returned to his lab to retrieve what he needed before extracting blood and skin samples from the decimated hand. He worked as quickly and quietly as he could, hoping no-one would ask him why he was testing blood when he had been working on tyre tracks before. Once the machine for the blood was running he took to a microscope with the skin tissue, taking mental notes of what he observed instead of writing them down. No paper trail, no evidence. For the first time in weeks he felt a little bit of excitement over what he was doing, and by the time he had collected the finished blood analysis, he could hear the phone on his desk ringing from the next room. 

"Hi Issac, Thomas is here to collect you."

 _Shit._ "Can he hang on ten more minutes, apologize profusely for me please Hannah."

He hung up the phone before she could reply, reading through the blood results and comparing them with Gally's records on the database. He kept himself positioned close in front of his monitor, it had reached the end of the working day, and too many people were milling around in the corridors for his liking. He could see Ava from his office if he looked hard enough, a few rooms across, the glass walls allowed him to spy her sitting at her desk. Looking back at his screen he got what he needed and was about to head off to report back when the phone rang again.

"Hannah, I'll be out in five okay?"

"Hi Newt."

Thomas' voice came as a surprise down the line, it was a nice welcome from Hannah's mundane voice. 

"Tommy how the bloody hell did you get on the phone?" 

"Now that would be telling." Thomas said humorously. "Seriously though, hurry up, I'm taking you out tonight."

Newt froze. Why would Thomas take him out? He didn't want to go out. "Tommy why? I don't feel like going out right now."

"Which is why I think it would be good for you. I didn't want tonight to be the same as every night, I wanted to do something special. I've booked your favourite restaurant, we eat in an hour. Come on, how about it?"

His mind ran, forgetting about the important information he held in his hand, he turned off his computer. Why was Thomas so insistent on making tonight special? He hadn't pushed for it before, so why now? He looked at the calender briefly before it dawned on him.

"It's Valentines day isn't it." He said quietly down the phone.

To his relief Thomas just laughed on the other end. "Happy Valentines Day gorgeous, now are you coming?"

He had completely forgotten. "I'll be out in five minutes if you let me get off this phone, I promise." He put the phone down again and walked as quickly as he could to Ava without attracting any attention to himself.

"How did you get on?" Ava asked before he had sat down again.

"It's Gally's hand alright, DNA matches up perfectly. Whoever cut the leg off, I'm guessing cut the hand off too, though much more cleanly. Judging by the deterioration of the skin, and taking into consideration the possibility of preservation, I'd say it was detached from a living body about four weeks ago."

"Before the leg was discovered." Ava observed.

Newt nodded in agreement. "Yes. I would wager Gally is dead by now, unless whoever is doing this has further use for him breathing. My guess is that he had been dead from the start, his body is being kept fresh somehow, and parts are being dismembered and dispatched as and when needed. This might not be the last piece of him we see."

"A dismal concept, but a valid one." She said sadly. "Thank you Newt, I shall take it from here, I saw you on the phone, Thomas must be impatient for you this evening. Go be with him." 

He grinned in appreciation, left his records with her, and swiftly packed up his desk and left. He found Thomas sat on one of the reception chairs, his elbows on his knees with one foot tapping out of impatience. He looked up at the sound of Newt's footsteps and an award winning smile graced his face immediately as he stood up. Newt closed the rest of the distance quickly before ending it in a bear hug, wrapping himself close around the brunette. Thomas smelled of proper coffee, the kind he had been without all day, and sweet cinnamon, whilst he bet he must smell of rotting flesh, despite him using gloves and scrubbing his hands with soap after. If he did, Thomas didn't complain.

"I'm so sorry, I completely forgot about Valentines, I haven't got you anything." He said quickly. 

Thomas kissed him on the head, sending a warm wave running down him. "Good, cause I didn't get you anything either. Valentines is overrated."

They held hands as they walked out of the building. It had become common knowledge at work that Newt was dating Thomas. More people knew him than not, and many stopped to chat with the man as he waited in the lobby for his boyfriend to finish work. Thomas' personality was addictive, only two weeks and he had practically become friends with most of his colleagues. 

"So why are we going out?" Newt queried innocently. 

"Because it will be good for us."

He lowered his head. "Good for me you mean."

Thomas brought him in close. "No, I mean good for us. We haven't had a date out in months maybe even more than a year, and with recent developments making it harder, I think we need a bit of quality time."

"Tommy I don't think I can." He felt awful, every word Thomas said was true, but the idea of sitting like a duck in open water out in public made him feel vulnerable. 

Thomas ushered him into the passenger seat and crouched down beside him gazing at him lovingly. "Yes you can. Do you know why? Because you're strong. Now were going to go home, get showered, dress sexy for each other, and go dine." He winked at him cheekily, and Newt could only smile despite his inner concerns. "Okay?" Thomas pressed.

"Okay."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my best, I found it hard to write. It probably isn't needed, but here it is anyways.

The Joint was packed full of people spending their Valentine's evening with the ones they loved. It was no fancy diner, the majority of its clients made up of teenagers and college students on what was probably their first ever dates with their 'special someone'. Thomas reflected briefly on his college dating years as he saw a young pair share a sundae as they held hands, gazing at each other like two love-sick puppies. His dates had been more of the same, the need to have a date on the specific day had overshadowed actually having any true feelings for the one he had spent it with. After all, being able to brag to your mates the following day that you didn't spend it alone in your bedroom was far more important. He had come a long way since then.

The lay out of the burger restaurant was open. Instead of separate tables, long benches ran the length of the dining area, inviting guests to socialize with each other as they ate their meals. Newt's worst nightmare, he knew, and with the place as packed as it was, Thomas could see the look of apprehension clear on the man's pale face. He placed a reassuring hand on the small of the blonde's back before catching the eye of The Joint's proprietor. 

Macy was a short plump woman, only a couple years older than Thomas, she had a young face framed with amber hair, and a heart the size of an ocean. She beamed at him as she made her way over, hugging him quickly as a greeting. Her uniform was casual, jeans and a plain red jumper, sleeves pulled up round her elbows. A black apron protected her from food spillages, and stitched onto the front was The Joint's logo - a flaming steak knife sticking out of the top of a burger bun. 

"Good to see you Thomas! How are you? Its been too long since I saw you last."

"Hey Macy." He said pleasantly, returning the hug quickly. "I'm good thank you, wow this place is packed."

She smiled proudly. "Yeah, business is good, young love puts money in my till. What about your place? Surprised you got tonight off!"

He wrapped an arm around Newt who stood quietly to his side. "Yeah, we've got the place booked out upstairs, champagne will be flowing. Minho, Sonya and Darnell have it covered. I've got much more important things to do."

He swore he could hear Newt roll his eyes, but Macy took up the introduction. "You must be Newt, Thomas is always talking about you when I see him. Can't believe I haven't met you until now." She extended a small arm, Newt shook her hand willingly.

"I don't get a lot of free time with work, tonight is a nice surprise." 

Newt squeezed Thomas' side gently, quietly showing his appreciation. He couldn't help but smile, pleased with himself for getting Newt out of the comfort zone that was home.

"We don't come here enough Macy." He admitted. "Your food was where our relationship started after all."

She laughed, smacking him lightly on the arm, her cheeks reddening slightly at the admission. 

"You guys are too cute, I'll let you get on with your night. Your table is ready for you at the back, I'll send someone over to you shortly."

Thomas had known Macy for years, she had helped her father run the bustling burger joint, and after his tragic passing two years gone, she had taken full reins of the business with optimistic gusto. She had sat next to him upon many meeting with the chamber of commerce, helping to ensure the success of independent businesses in the local area, and he found her easy to get on with. Often she would pop into his Homestead for a quick coffee and a catch up, and Thomas couldn't help but feel a little guilty of how rarely he had graced her Joint with his presence. 

It was because of this friendship that Thomas had been able to snag himself one of only four private booths that sat at the rear of the eatery, secluded away from the noisy rabble of the other diners. He gave himself a pat on the shoulder when he saw Newt visibly relax into their private seat. The booth was a round bench, big enough for six people, with walls high enough to reach over their heads, blocking off the majority of the background noise, and shrouding them both in their own private world. 

"Its not what you know, its who you know." Newt said as he slipped off his jacket, revealing a tight-fitting short-sleeved grey shirt. "You had me worried for a minute, but I'm glad you chose this place. Brings it back full circle."

Thomas nodded in agreement as he sat close next to Newt, it was exactly why they brought them here. Five years ago he had taken Newt out on their first date. At least, that's what Thomas had called it. They had only just met, and Newt was still spoken for at the time, but Thomas was already infatuated, and had labelled it as a date. They had come here after a movie, Thomas remembered the easy conversation, and just how dazzled he had been by the blonde. He also remembered his concern for the cuts and bruises that had marked Newt's face, and later that night, he had learned of Alby's violent tendencies, and had held Newt in his arms under his duvet. He would never forget that day, it had set his resolve to save Newt and make him his. 

"I know we haven't been here since, and its not grand or fancy, but I thought it'd be nice to revisit where we started."

Newt waved his hand dismissively, "I don't need any fancy restaurant, or posh waiters in suits, I just need you."

In truth they had started at his own coffee shop, a blonde stranger with a cut on his cheek. They had sipped their chai lattes and wiled the time away with idle chit chat.  He had almost taken Newt there, but it felt wrong. As much as Newt disliked crowds, The Joints busy atmosphere would make him feel more secure being out in public, no-one would try anything with so many people around, and the booth gave them enough privacy to enjoy their date. 

Newt plucked the cocktail menu from its holder, casually musing through the colourful options. Above them a light hung low, it shade a canvas oval, dulling the bright bulb as it filtered through to a dulcet glow. Thomas watched Newt's eyes warm as the light sparkled in his chocolate eyes as he quietly studied the menu. He reached over to hold skinny wrists in his hand. 

"Hey, you okay? If its too much just say, and we can go."

Newt gave him a tiny, but genuine and warm smile. "I'm fine Tommy, honestly. You're right, I can't hide for the rest of my life."

A student waitress came to take their order. "Two Daiquiris, and can we get some olives and bread please." Thomas ordered, going along with Newt's choice of drink. The girl flashed them both a winning smile before leaving to put their order through. Newt studied the food menu with an unnatural intensity, seemingly reading every ingredient in every dish. 

"So whats up?" He said, wanting to know what was going on behind the furrowed brow and knitted blonde eyebrows. "How was work today?"

Newt sighed heavily, closing the menu. "Tiresome." Was all he offered. 

"You look tired." He observed. He knew Newt had not been sleeping great. Almost every night he would feel the warmth leave him as the insomniac would leave the bed to make a drink. Sometimes he came straight back, sometimes he stayed up - doing what, Thomas had no idea, though he could guarantee it would have something to do with work. The lack of sleep had taken its toll, Newt's usually pink skin had grayed, his eyes heavy with bags, and his concentration skills were wrecked. 

"I feel tired." Newt admitted, rubbing a hand up and down the side of his face, trying to wake it up. "What's worse is I'm working on such a complex and intricate case - and I just can't figure it out."

Thomas frowned. Newt always flourished at difficult challenges, the trickier it was, the more he reveled in it. "You'll get it." He reassured as the waitress came back to place their drinks and appetizers on the table. "You just need a little more time that's all."

Newt sipped at his drink, "That's just it, I don't have time. They need all the evidence prepared within the week, were three days in and I've barely made a dent. In fact, I've got more questions than I had before."

Taking a swig of his own cocktail, Thomas let the rum radiate inside of him as it ran down his gullet. The drink was strong, but tasty and easy to drink, a potential danger to his mind and to his wallet. Especially when he put his drink down to find Newt had already finished his, and was now sucking on an olive in an obliviously seductive manner. 

"Another one?" He asked, miming a drinking action with his hand. Newt blushed, as he realised how quickly he had downed his drink.  

"I think I'll wait until we get some proper food. Anyways, forget my work, anything new with you?"

"Actually I need to speak to you about the wedding. Teresa has it all booked for the first of March, three weeks away. Your parents are definitely coming aren't they?"

They hadn't spoken about the impending marriage since Newt had kicked everyone out of their home. But time was against them, and Teresa had been constantly bugging him to make sure everything would be arranged. He was relieved when Newt confirmed that his parents were coming, and would due to arrive a couple of days before the big event. Newt was named after his father, part of the reason why he opted for his alias of a name in order to save confusion. Issac and Hannah Newton would stay in their guest bedroom over the wedding weekend, unknowingly acting as mediators between Thomas and his own parents during the awkward scenario. 

"They'll touchdown on the Thursday, I've arranged it so I'll pick them up and bring them back to ours. Then we can have a wonderful time together at the wedding with your folks, and they fly back on the Tuesday."

Thomas blinked. "I just told you the date for the wedding, how the hell did you arrange all that?" 

Newt chuckled, "If I waited on you for the information I might not have known until the day before. I sent Minho a text last week asking for details, and he obliged. It'll be fun having my parents live with us for a few days, I know they are eager to see you again, probably more so than they are to see me."

The notion made Thomas smile, it was an exaggeration , but Mr and Mrs Newton both loved him as much as they did their son. They made him feel warm and welcome, like he belonged, more so than his own parents had ever even tried to achieve. His thoughts darkened again when he thought of them. It was going to be rough making pretend pleasantries with them, all the time knowing they hated his guts. Worst of all, he doubted his father would even bother to hide his distaste for his own son, Teresa's wedding or not. 

"Well you can tell them I'm delighted they are coming. I'm gonna need all the support I can get."

"Hey I'm not enough?" Newt said with a hand clutched to his chest. "You pain me Tommy."

Thomas smirked. He picked up an olive and threw it at Newt's face, only for the blonde to catch it in his mouth, snapping his teeth together as he closed his jaws around the flying object, making him laugh. 

They spent the rest off their meal conversing casually over the easier subjects of their lives. Thomas had been informed by his sister that she had found the suits she wanted them to wear, and needed their measurements to order them. Thomas was to be Minho's best man, and she wanted him and Newt in matching suits,  _'you'll look so cute together, you have to match!'_ He couldn't complain much about the colour choice, a rich blue suit, simple white shirt and orange tie, Newt would look stunning in it and he secretly couldn't wait to try them on together. 

Their food went down easily, as did a few more cocktails, and soon they were waiting on their pudding whilst holding hands across the table. It was getting late, and most of the teenage rabble had moved on to wilder places, leaving The Joint soothingly calm and quiet. Thomas felt completely at ease as he traced patterns in the palm of Newt's hand. He begrudgingly pulled away so their sharing dessert could be placed in the middle. He was quite full from his burger, and knew his limits, but a little bit of warm cookie dough wouldn't hurt; especially when he was cuddled up to his boyfriend as they spoon-fed each other.

"We had a bit of an update on Gally today." Newt's tongue always loosened when he drunk, but Thomas was surprised to hear such information slip out willingly, and so casually too. The name shocked him slightly, not because it scared him anymore, but he had thought the case around the dismembered man had been put to rest for good. 

"Gally?" He nudged the subject, his curiosity fully aroused. "You found him?" 

"Not quite." Newt mumbled. Thomas could physically see him suddenly double guess his own judgement. "Forget it, I shouldn't have said anything. It's confidential."

He held down a frustrated sigh from the disappointment after such a teasing statement. "I wish you would share more stuff with me, especially if you're gonna lead me on like that. I know its confidential, but you can trust me you know."

Sweetened lips brushed his tentatively, his eyes fluttered in response. "I know Tommy, I'm sorry it was wrong of me to say anything."

The closeness got too much, and Thomas pressed his lips against Newt's, he lost himself in the moment, giving himself to the man who belonged to him, and him alone. 

"You can tell me anything." He whispered as they broke apart. "Don't ever be afraid."

Newt looked at him with deep eyes, "Can you tell me anything Tommy? Is there nothing that you find yourself unable to share, even with me?"

He gulped, the sound loud between them, but Newt seemed not to notice. His mind flashed back to a young girl's pink lips attacking his, pushing him back into a corner with too curious hands. He had wanted to tell Newt the same night Sonya had encroached upon him, but there had been enough to deal with, and as the days went on he found it impossible to go back to reveal unnecessary demons. The guilt of it still weighed heavily on his heart. He had not asked for it to happen, but he had reacted, and went along enough for tongues to dance together. Could he bring himself to confess now? 

"Tommy don't give yourself an aneurysm." Newt laughed, the sweet sound bringing him back into focus. "I don't want to know everything. If we can trust each other enough to not worry about each other's secrets, then were in a good place. And I trust you, completely."

The words hit him in the gut, and his heart fell. Newt trusted him, without question. It made him feel awful, knowing the information he withheld. He should tell him now, but he couldn't. It would ruin their evening, and he didn't want to risk hurting the blonde, even if it meant taking it to his grave. Instead he pushed the thoughts to one side, and worked on removing talking as a possible option, letting Newt's timid moans be the only music. 

The bill was paid, and the cookie dough left unfinished.Too impatient to wait for a taxi, Thomas booked them into a nearby bed and breakfast, where he thrust all his doubts into his ravishing blonde. They moved as one, sang the sweet song of love in harmony, and Thomas thought they had never felt stronger. He trusted Newt entirely, and felt trusted in return, one little scupper could not hurt them. He would not let it. 

"Newt..." He whispered in to his ear from behind the man he was snugly spooning. 

"Yeah Tommy?" He sounded tired. Post-sex was probably not the best time, but he had to get it out before it destroyed him. 

"I have to tell you something. It's important."

The scientist rolled around to face him, so close his warm breath tickled his ear. "What is it Tommy?"

His mind reeled as his mouth gaped open, surely leaving him looking like a trout. How could he say it? He had taken the first step, he couldn't leave it hanging, but watching Newt gaze at him with ready and waiting orbs of melted cinnamon, his courage fled.

"Well... you see.. Newt I- I love you, you know that right? More than anything. But the night everyone came round to ours, something happened. I-"

"Tommy relax, you don't need to tell me what I already know."

His heart stopped still, his breath froze in his chest as panic set in. "You know?" The little air in his lungs gushed out in a whimper. 

Newt gave him a smile so genuine that it hurt. "Sonya took it upon herself to fill me in. A few days after she called in while you were at work and gleefully filled me in on the details. I thinks she thought to get the better of us, to tear us apart, but she was a fool. At first I didn't believe it, but then I remember how drunk she was, how flustered and quiet you had been, and it all kind of fitted together."

Panic turned to quiet rage. How dare Sonya bleed what happened between them to his boyfriend, behind his back. She viciously tried to split them up, by any means necessary, and she would pay for it; he would make sure. 

"Newt I- I'm so sorry, I didn't want it to happen. God I wish it never did, I pushed her away as soon as I knew what was happening. Please, it meant nothing, you have to believe me."

His rant was quietened with a tender kiss, and he melted into Newt's comforting touch out of disbelief. "Newt?"

"It's okay Tommy. She hardly made her intentions secret, I can't say I blame her though." He stoked Thomas' cheek, and with that touch and those words alone, Thomas felt so safe and reassured he felt sleep seep into his body almost immediately. 

"Thank you Thomas." Newt's own heavy voice close to him soothed him as he held him close. "For wanting to tell me. I know you, you would have blamed yourself."

The night was near its end as they lay awake in bed, fighting the tiredness as they shared their inner demons with each other. Thomas cleared the air over his altercation with Sonya, whilst Newt divulged to him all the revelations around Gally and his hand-delivered hand. The message warning of four weeks troubled him, he wasn't aware of the crime investigation department receiving threats before, and he didn't like the sound of it. It was too close to Newt. Form there they carried on to discuss the wedding and Thomas' worries over his parents. 

They reassured each other, held each other close, and for the first time in weeks, they both fell asleep together into deep peaceful slumber. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Despatched

The view from the back of The Homestead was a grim one. The world was dark and overshadowed by festering clouds, all too ready to depart from their water reservoirs. What little light there was suffocated in the choking winds, leaving hardly any to reach where Thomas sat at one of the tables at the rear of his establishment. The working day had been slow and tedious, leaving him feeling discontented. The last customer had left an hour ago, and Thomas had decided to lock up half an hour earlier than usual. In truth he was glad for the free time, there were things that needed to be discussed, matters that needed attending to. People who needed to be dealt with. It was therefore fortunate that one of Harriet's sudden sickness bouts had left him requiring cover for the day.

He had tried to ride the wave, and let the water run off his back, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not. Working with Sonya had become unbearable. Before it had been just uncomfortable, but now he had learned the true limits of her deceptiveness, just looking at her sweet smile made his blood boil. He was not a man to be known for anger or bitterness, but the girl had gotten under his skin and tried to mess with his life. What was worse, was that he had let her. He had succumbed to her flaunts and over the top friendliness, putting up with it instead of shutting it down. Now it had gone too far, and enough was enough.

The artificial lighting was dim, and Sonya did not see him at first, no doubt expecting to find him waiting for her by the door to let her out. She had left him to finish balancing the till so she could collect her coat and bag before heading off. By the time she came back, Thomas had made himself a coffee and sat himself behind two tables that he had pushed together, creating himself a makeshift desk.

"Back here." He called out, from the shadows, making her jump slightly to his amusement. She turned quickly, a look of surprise settled into puzzlement as she stepped forward slowly, peering through the dimness.

"Thomas! What are you doing lurking back there? You frightened the life out of me!"

He shrugged an apology. If he had scared her, it had not eradicated the constant smile that was still plastered on her face. He took his time to sip at his drink, watching as she walked towards him. Without invitation she slipped off her jacket and sat in the chair he had left opposite him, placing her bag gently on the floor by her side.

"After work drinks?" She asked, nodding at the hot beverage he had made for her, sitting untouched on her side. He confirmed with a slight nod, still sipping, mulling over his planned proceedings in his head. "Aw cheers boss, you're too good to me. What's the occasion?"

He sat his cup down gently as he let its contents warm his belly. "Thought we could have a little chat is all, just the two of us."

She quirked a fair eyebrow at him from behind her cup. "What about? Something on your mind?"

Many things were on his mind, a cesspit of troubles, but only one concerned him today. "We haven't really seen each other since having dinner, what with our different working hours and all." In truth there had been opportunities where he could have done with her help on busy days, but he had avoided working with her when he could, keeping her upstairs and away from him. "I never really got to apologize for the way Newt reacted that night."

Sonya shook her head, "No need. I shouldn't have fussed over that letter, it was not my business. I am sorry."

 _I wasn't your business either, but that didn't stop you._ "Then let us both be sorry."

He couldn't speak for her, but his apology was a lie, and he still suspected the same for the blonde's. He let the silence settle between them, waiting for its lack of comfortableness to force a move. 

"So how is Newt?" The mention of his boyfriend made his ears prick, he smiled internally at the encroachment of the subject. "Everything okay between you two? You seemed a bit on edge today."

He was on edge, but she suspected the wrong blonde for its cause. "Do I? Well, everything's fine." He said, sounding surprised. "Why? Shouldn't it be?"

Her eyes assessed him, the usual surety dampened as the light of the outside world against the encroaching darkness. "No reason, just wondered."

 _You know Newt knows, but you don't know that I know._ "You ask about Newt and I like someone who cares about our relationship would." He stated. "It's nice to know I have colleagues who wish us well."

Sonya's cup went back into its saucer a tad clumsily, heavily smacking china against china. "Of course I care!"

He gave her a cold look, it was something he was not used to doing, but it must have been effective as she physically flinched. "You care? Is that why you divulged the details of our kiss to Newt behind my back?"

The sweet smile faded. "I just thought he should know how loose tongued you are."

"You dare judge me?" He spat, his anger released as well as the truth. "You force yourself on me then hope to become the innocent party when you spill to my boyfriend? What? So you could claim me for yourself? So I would give up on Newt and run into your arms?"

"Gay just doesn't suit you Thomas." She tutted, eyeing him up as she licked the fine layer of froth that ran along her upper lip. "Its such a waste of good meat. Newt doesn't appreciate you for what you're worth." 

He pounded a fist onto the table, making the girl jump in her seat. "You speak to me as if I'm some jock in your college year. Guess what? I'm not. I've grown, I've made my choices, and I love the man I'm with. And he loves me, for so many more reasons than you ever could. You're a beautiful girl, but I will never choose you over him, not even if he left me for someone else. I would fight to get him back instead of crawling to you."

Thomas was glad she had drunk most of her drink when she threw the remaining contents in his face. The liquid was still hot, but not burning on his skin. He licked his lips casually, and raised a curious eyebrow, mocking her for her immaturity. Her nostrils flared as she slammed the cup back down onto the table; he heard the base crack under the pressure. 

"How dare you judge me so! You're too uptight, I was only having a bit of fun. Yeah, I like you, a lot. I've missed working with you, I was looking forward to today so much its sad, and it was great until now." 

"A bit of fun? Do you realize you could have taken the best thing in my life away? For what, a kiss? You can't mess around with people's lives like that, you have no right."

She proved her immaturity by sticking her tongue out at him as her only response, folding her arms as a child having a tantrum would. Her plan had failed, Newt's love for him was stronger than she had anticipated, But he could never forgive her for the potential damage she could have so casually have caused.

"I'm glad you enjoyed working here today Sonya, because it was your last day at The Homestead."

"What?!" She asked disbelievingly.

He stared at her right in the eyes, and spoke the two words with as much venom as he could muster. "You're fired." 

She stood up, her arms shaking by her sides, her face furious. "You can't fire me. I've done nothing that you can sack me for. Not legally."

He finished his drink, letting her stew in her own temper. He felt silly with foamed milk splattered over his face, and his collar was damp from coffee, but he felt victorious all the same.

"I've overlooked several instances concerning your punctuality, but lets get to the crux of it. You've betrayed my trust Sonya. You've shown a reckless carelessness to other people's lives for your own selfish gain, and I can't have people with such traits working for my establishment. It's not personal, its a judgement of character, and yours dooms you to such a sentence. Your contract with me is at an immediate end. Cause no fuss over the matter, and I will happily give you a glowing referral. Mess with me again, and I can make it very difficult for you to find employment in the local area. 

She gaped at him, not sure how to deal with this new side of him that she had not encountered before. To her no doubt he had been like a puppy, cute to pet and play around with. But now he had shown his rottweiler side, and she did not like it.

"Y-you can't threaten me like that. I'll fight you for this!"

He laughed harshly. "Fight me for what? Some part-time job in a coffee shop? Surely even you have better things to be paying out for than that.  Besides, Minho will back me up, trust me- its not worth your time."

She slumped back into the chair defeated. Her eyes shone with tears, and for a moment he felt immensely sorry for her, but he fought those feelings back. He had to be tough, it would be better for all of them in the end, even her. 

"Look Sonya, I mean you no ill will, but I cannot work with you anymore. You've betrayed me, and you've betrayed Newt. You've brought this on yourself."

She picked up the poor cup she had slammed on the table and launched it at the wall, shattering it into jagged fragments. A dark stain blemished the wallpaper there, slowly dripping dark coffee remnants that had survived the drinking and the spilling until now. 

"Don't patronize me with your empty words Thomas. Just you wait, Darnell and Harriet wont stand by and watch this happen. Come tomorrow, you won't have a workforce." With that she grabbed her things and stormed out, only to be left fuming when she found the door locked. She stood there with her arms folded as Thomas slowly walked over to unlock it. The embarrassment radiated off the girl like scorching waves that nearly pulled him backwards. Once unlocked, she barged past him, slamming the door behind her as she left for the last time. 

Thomas locked the door behind her. He went back to his made up desk and fell into his chair, letting a deep breath out to relax himself. Her last threat was real, but not viable. He had already spoken to both Darnell and Harriet about the whole situation, and they had both agreed that they hadn't really gotten on with the blonde girl, and would not be bothered about her departure. The only problem was who to replace her with. Until then they would be running short. Using his mobile he phoned Newt, feeling a sudden need to hear his calming British accent again. 

"Hey Tommy, how'd it go?" Newt asked immediately. Thomas had checked over his plan with Newt beforehand, not wanting to keep any more secrets from him again. 

"I've got a coffee-stained face, and a new enemy, but apart from that it went pretty well. I'll need to fine a new member of staff though."

"Good riddance." Newt's distaste for the meddling girl was obvious in his tone of voice. "Now we can put her behind us."

"Newt..." Thomas had to ask, he had to know for sure. "Are you sure you're okay? With what happened between me and her?"

"Tommy you're too cute you know that? It was a kiss, and a forced one at that. It wasn't like you got between her legs or anything, stop worrying. I trust you remember?"

He smiled broadly against the phone, wishing Newt was there with him now so he could ravish him right there and then. 

"Thanks Newt. I'll see you soon yeah?"

"I'm nearly done with these stupid car tracks, then I'll be heading home. So get dinner cooking."

Before Thomas could argue the case of take-away food, Newt had hung up on him. It looked like he would be cooking tonight. 

He was just putting on his jacket when he heard a dull thud from behind him. He turned around quickly to find no-one on the other side of the door, and both window bays were clear of any human life. It wasn't until he left that he noticed what had made the noise. Lying on the ground was a brown paper bag wrapped tightly with brown tape. He bent down to pick it up. Turning it over in his hands he read the writing on the flat part of the makeshift parcel. 

_**Thomas Greene - Drinks Manager.** _

Curious, he turned the parcel around in his hands, looking for any clue as to who it may have come from, or even where. It was just a plain brown parcel, with his name on it. He peeled the brown tape away with cold fingers, the miserable weather already attacking him as soon as he stepped outside. He jumped back when the object fell out, landing on the floor with a fleshy splat. Thomas could only stare as a small bit of paper gently floated down next to the human ear  that lay on the pavement. The note landed face up, and writing in such a bold red that he could read it in the darkness froze him on the spot. 

**_3 Weeks._ **

He remembered Newt telling him on their Valentine's date about the parcel his boss had received. The hand, and the note. This was a new package, with a new body part, and a new note. A message that was counting down. He knelt down next to the contents and carefully guided the ear back into the parcel using the note. Once in he sealed it back up as best he could and gently placed it in his jacket pocket, glad that the street was empty of life as he did so. Even so, he felt suddenly vulnerable, too out in the open, and hurriedly started on his way home, staying in the shadows as often as he could. He hoped Newt would get home quickly, something was happening, and whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

 

 


	14. Recon

His footsteps echoed shallowly along the empty corridors, dulled by the soft carpet. The day was late, the sun had set, and the glass rooms that surrounded his pathway stood empty of life. The bright overhead lighting stung his tired eyes, the occasional bulb flickering as they reached the end of their life span.  Newt's mind raced at how quickly time was going by, and the latest development reminded him just how little control he had over the situation. He turned the next corner quickly, gripping the container firmly in his hands as he closed in on the one room that was still illuminated.

He entered Ava's office without a word and made his way over to the small refrigerator situated in the corner of the room. She watched him without a word, Newt could feel her gaze on him as he retrieved the two cooling items stored inside. He heaped the hideous items in his arms, walking them over to dump all but one on the woman's desk.

"Well good evening Issac." She announced when he stood in front of her. "I'd ask what I owed the pleasure to, but I think I already know." Using her pen, she separated the clumsily placed objects apart.

"This." Newt pointed to the severed hand still kept within its box. "Was delivered to you, my boss. This ear was sent to Thomas, my boyfriend." He placed a small cardboard tube on Ava's desk. "And now _this_ was posted directly to me this morning."

Ava Paige stared at the new parcel he had positioned in between the previous two. "Another piece?"

Newt nodded gravely. "Another part yes, and from the same unfortunate man. I took the liberty of running a quick test, not that I needed to. It came from the same home as its flesh counterparts did."

He opened the capped lid of the thick tube. Using tweezers he plucked out a folded up note, and carefully unfolded it with his gloved hands. The lab was dark and quiet, Newt had waited until everyone had left before approaching Ava with his new delivery so they could talk freely without the fear of being disturbed. The message was of the same tone as the others.

"Two weeks." Ava voiced the short statement, before turning her attention to him, "Two weeks until what I wonder?"

Newt let his fear and agitation show. Turning the tube upside down, he let Gally's manhood land down on the table with a sickening slap, smearing the glass with blood and gristle. He winced himself at the noise, a queer sensation of revulsion in between his own legs at the imaginations of such a splice. 

"I don't know what the threat is, but its obviously aimed at me." He stated, keeping as much of his fear out of his voice as possible. "We need to bring this to the attention of our superiors, it does us no good in keeping it in the dark. We need to start a proper investigation and bring the culprit to justice before anything happens." It was a struggle, but he kept his voice calm and level throughout, despite how he felt inside. 

His boss calmly took her spectacles off, folding them neatly as she set them on the table. "What culprit would that be Issac?"

He slammed his hands on the table, Gally's member rolling over from the tremor. "What culprit? Are you so blind, or are you just ignorant? Alby! Who else would target me so?"

Ava's grey eyes turned ice blue in a second, searing into him from her side of the desk. "Mind your tongue Issac, you forget who you are talking to." She reprimanded him coldly. He lowered his head shamefully, it was not like him to lose control like that. He had been so calm when the bloodied parcels had started to appear, but as the weeks went on, and he had slowly been singled out as the true recipient, curiosity had been replaced by realization, and with it, fear. 

In truth he had had a sickening hunch after Thomas' reaction upon seeing Gally's face on his laptop monitor. There was a link, a fine one, but it was there. A chain that linked Alby to Gally, then to Thomas, and finally to him. A pathway of revenge. Newt shuddered at the thought. He had the idea at the time, but the dark man had been inside, at least that was what he had thought. The letter from court however made it all possible. Alby had been released not long before the leg was discovered in the dirty river, the timeline fitted, and since then Newt had lived constantly looking over his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry Ava, I'm just a little tense over all of this." He said softy as he sunk down in a cushioned swivel chair. It was an understatement, but he refused to show any more weakness in front of his boss. She caught his eyes with much warmer ones than before.

"Issac, listen to me. I had the same hunch as you did myself, it makes sense after all, and its only natural to assume the worst. So I've made a few inquiries, on the low, as to Alby's whereabouts and activities over the last few weeks."

Newt blinked, puzzled. "I thought he was off our radar, that he hadn't been seen since he was released from prison. Why had no-one told me anything about this?" He asked angrily. He was fed up of being kept in the dark over such matters. He knew it was to protect Alby, so he could lead a new life with no interference from his past. It sickened Newt. What about _his_ peace of mind? Surely he was owed at least that much.

"The information is on a need to know basis, and you did not need to know. Though with the recent events, I thought we could make an exception." She retrieved a file from the top draw of her desk. "First, would you mind clearing up the mess you have made of the table. It stinks, and I don't appreciate it. I'll meet you in the coffee lounge, we'll be more comfortable there."

He only nodded glumly as she took her leave. Looking over the parts on the table, he thought for a moment he could be on his way to creating his own Frankenstein project.  _At the very least it would be able to copulate,_ he thought wryly to himself before tentatively picking up the reproductive organ. It was surprisingly heavy, and flaccid in his grip and his stomach lurched at the coldness of it. He boxed up all the pieces, and put them back into the mini fridge to keep them relatively fresh for any further investigation. He disinfected everything, before disposing of his gloves and retrieved his mobile from his pocket.

It was already Wednesday, and the swiftly approaching weekend would see Teresa and Minho married in happy matrimony. He was supposed to pick his parents up from the airport in a couple of hours, but now he would not have the time to be there. He dialed Thomas' number, the poor man would have spent his hours after work making their apartment as clean and tidy as possible, and now he would need to oblige him with another favour. 

"That's funny." Newt rolled his eyes at Thomas' usual greeting. Still, he played his usual part of the ritual with a smile on his face.

"What's that Tommy?"

"I was just thinking about you, and here you are!"

Newt shook his head against the phone. "Not as funny as you are Tommy. Hows the last minute clean-up going?"

They had known the date of Mr and Mrs Newton's arrival for days, yet it wasn't until this morning that either of them had thought to make their home look anything close to decent. He himself was the tidier of the two, and he was curious as to how Thomas had gotten on with his spring clean blitz session.

"I'm beat, but I think were good." Newt heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner being turned off; at least the carpet would be clean. "Hows things with you?"

"Fine." He lied. Ever since Thomas had come home with Gally's detached ear he had kept any developments with his work to himself. He didn't want Thomas to get involved any more than he already was. "Actually, that was why I was calling, you see-

"You've got caught up with something and you want me to pick your parents up." Newt frowned at the phone as Thomas finished for him in a rehearsed tone. Had he let Thomas down so much so, that the man always expected it? 

"I'm sorry Tommy, I wouldn't stay if it wasn't important. Ava's called a last minute meeting on a closing case." 

Thomas let out a resigned sigh, "I had hoped you would be here when they came. Your parents are lovely, but it doesn't feel right that it's just me here to welcome them. What's so important anyways?"

"Just going over some details  that's all. I'll text you over their flight information, they should be landing about half seven. I should be home by the time you get back, Ava will give me a lift home. I'll get takeaway on the way home, see you soon okay?"

"Okay, sounds good." Thomas finally submitted. "I'll see you later then, with your folks in tow."

"Thanks Tommy." He hung up the phone, sadly musing on the conversation. Not long ago they had promised each other to keep no secrets from each other, and already he was breaking that vow. Since there date, things had gotten much better. He had spent much more time at home than at work, and Thomas continued to chauffeur him to and from the lab to extend that time even further. Newt had even found the courage to go back out into the field, anxiety still racked him on occasion, but he fought through it for the sake of his relationship. All this development had come from one source: Thomas. His love and support had seen him through, and what did he do in return? Withhold information, lie to the one stable thing in his life.  _Only for the best. Only to protect him._ He would find out what Ava had to say, and go from there.  _  
_

He found Ava nursing a cup of coffee on a comfortable grey armchair. The coffee lounge was Newt's own little Homestead from home, albeit with nastier coffee, and much more modest decor. However the break room was a little oasis where he came to gather his thoughts during a complex case, or simply use it for its purpose: to take a break. He retrieved a black coffee from the vending machine before taking a seat opposite his boss who was casually flipping through the file in her hands. 

"So what's the deal?" He got right to the point, not wanting to hang around any longer than he had to. Ava slowly set her drink on a tiny wooden table before flipping back to the beginning of the file, she had never been a woman to be rushed. As she folded the front cover over to the back, Newt glanced the small mug shot of Alby clipped to the front of the file. His stomach lurched at the dark eyes and wicked grin, memories of them looming over him, and then pain. He blinked away the memories, they were a part of him, something he would never be free from, but he had learnt to live with them over the years. 

"Before I start, I want you to know that my resources have been limited. I couldn't risk any of this leaking, not yet, so I restricted myself to those who I could trust."

Newt smirked into his cup. "I guess that just left yourself then." Ava was the type of boss who took the opinion that if you want a job done well, you must do it yourself. She smiled at him knowingly.

"It scares me sometimes just how well you know me Issac. In truth, I would have gotten you on board if you weren't so involved. I thought it best to collate whatever information I could get by myself."

"You should have let me help, I know there's a lot of history there, but I can deal with it."

Ava gave him a scrutinizing look that made him feel small in his chair. "It is never appropriate for an investigator to work on a case that is personal to them. Emotions blur judgement, and cause ill results."

He crunched the paper cup in his hand, "You think I wouldn't have been able to handle it? Something as simple as recon?"

"Anna Sykes."

Newt froze at the mention of her name. He had not been to see the vegetated woman in weeks, finally vowing to let her go. "That's unfair." He bit through his teeth. "I've moved on."

"Moved on or not, you still let yourself get too deep. You were a bane on the rest of the team, and worked yourself into the ground on a case that could never be solved. That was the worst and most notable example, but there have been others. You have no idea how much pressure I was under to let you go when you became obsessed with Anna. It was something I should have foreseen, and prevented, but I failed you in that respect, and I will not fail again."

Her words moved him, Ava was a rock, cold and calculating, her job required such a disposition. To hear how she had defended him when he had been a loose cannon, when she could have so easily given up on him, made him still for a moment. He hadn't realised what a liability he had been, nor how close he had gotten to losing his job. If it wasn't for the woman in front of him, he would have been out on his ass a long time ago. 

"Ava..." Words failed him. He shook his head, "I'm stronger than I was, you don't have to protect me any more." 

She shifted in her seat, clearly as uncomfortable as he was at their heartfelt exchange. "Very well then, shall we begin?"

Newt had a sudden urge for ignorance. He was sorely tempted to leave, let Ava put the file back where she found it and carry on with his life as normal. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to. He would constantly be itching to know the unknown, wondering what the possibilities could be. Two weeks was not a long period of time, any information now could prove crucial, and Ava had worked to gather what she could. He would not waste it. 

He nodded his head, and Ava began. "I cannot tell you much of his initial whereabouts upon his release. However, his current location is Edgeport, where he has worked and resided for the past month."

Newt looked up, shocked. "Edgeport? But that's two hundred miles away!"

Ava nodded. "He bought a train ticket from here, and made his way north. There he had found residence in a local farm where he works to earn his keep. I couldn't delve too much, but he's known within the community as warm, charismatic and helpful. I was able to speak to the farmer for whom he works, posing as a recruitment agency, and he was more than happy to verify Alby as an honest and reliable worker. As far as witnesses are concerned he hasn't moved from his location since arriving, and has given them no reason to make them suspicious of him."

He sunk back into his seat. The Alby that was being described was not the one he had been subjected to. On the other hand, it was exactly the same as the man he fell in love with originally. "Sounds like a sweet life, but I can't believe it. Do the residents of Edgeport know they've admitted a criminal into their midst?"

Edgeport was a small fishing village, sitting north on the gentle west coast. Quaint and peaceful, the farming population all knew each other's business, and were a tight-knit community. Newt had never had the pleasure of going there, but he had always wanted to. He had seen pictures in magazines and brochures, and they always reminded him of peaceful coastal town resorts back home. 

"Alby informed his employer of his criminal status before taking the accommodation." Ava answered his question. "I have to say Issac, I couldn't find a single piece of damning information on him. No-one has seen anything dodgy or to make them question any of his activities, and these people are a curious ilk."

Newt stood up, pacing the room after obtaining a fresh coffee. "It doesn't make sense. If its not Alby mutilating Gally then who? As a piece he fits the puzzle perfectly. Gally was associated with him, as am I, and this all started shortly after his release. It can't be anyone else."

The woman shook his head gently. "We can only judge based on evidence. The only evidence we have is sitting in my fridge, none of which directly leads back to Alby. The timing fits, yes, the connection fits yes, but nothing concrete."

"Can we not pull him in? Just for the period of time that the messages are threatening?" He knew it was a desperate plea, but it was worth a shot. He didn't feel safe with the man wondering about free, even if he was a couple of hundred miles away.

"On what charge? We have nothing on him, and even if we did hold him, it would not mean anything. He could have planned something to happen, regardless of whether he was imprisoned or not. It would prevent nothing, prove nothing." She sighed at his somber outlook. "Look, this is promising, don't look so downbeat."

He rubbed his eyes, no longer sure what to make of everything. "I know, I'm sorry, thank you for all you've done, I really appreciate it. I just wish I could know once and for all."

She stood next to him, landing a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let me take you home. You've got the wedding this weekend yes? Take the next couple of days off, enjoy the long break, and come back on Monday. Fresh start yes?"

Newt smiled appreciatively. "Thanks. It will be nice to see my parents again, its been too long. Oh, that reminds me, do you mind if we stop by the Chinese on the way? Need to pick up dinner." He let out a yawn, his lethargy catching up with him. He had come this evening hoping to find answers, and still he found himself even more unsure of the circumstances. He could only hope that Ava's report reflected the true facts, and Alby had decided to move on with his life. Though he was at a loss at who else could be behind such heinous crimes. 

Regardless, he would have to make himself put it all to the back of his mind. Teresa would soon be marrying Minho, and with family descending on them from all sides, Thomas would need his earnest support to get through the weekend long ordeal. If the threat's were against him, he still had a week at least. Thomas' time however, was up. It was time to face the past- and all of its nightmares.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Family

The arrivals lounge was full of people waiting to be reunited with their loved ones. Thomas felt a bit daft holding up a white piece of card with the name 'Newton' scribbled in his handwriting. It had been a while since he saw Newt's parents, and though he didn't think they would have forgotten what he looked like, they would be expecting to find their son and would probably look right over him in their search.

Their plane had landed a short while ago, and he hoped it would not be too much longer before he would see them strolling through the gate. Standing to his left was an old mam who, judging by his aroma, had missed his last few baths, and from somewhere behind him the screams of an unhappy child shot right through into his skull. The surrounding area bustled with people standing too close together in order to get a glimpse of their loved ones, and Thomas' personal space was left wanting. He hated airports, they were always too crowded, too strict and regimented for him to relax and his back hurt from standing in the same place for too long.

The first wave of travelers came and went, taking a third of the crowd with them. Thomas was spinning the named card in his hands idly when he caught the familiar flash of blonde hair; he immediately flashed the card without looking, hoping it was the right way round. Hannah saw him first, their eyes met and a warm, wide smile lit up her face.

Mrs Newton was a shortish woman, standing at no more than five and a half feet. She was skinny, with a tiny waist and dainty features, and walked graciously with her head high as she wheeled a large green suitcase in her wake. She wore light denim jeans and a deep red plush coat with large black buttons running down the middle. Thomas thought she was a beautiful woman, with more bounce and sparkle then most people he knew that were in their mid-fifties.

As small as she was, he could see where Newt got his looks from. Her hair, though now speckled with grey, still maintained a healthy amount of shining woven gold, and her almond shaped eyes were the same luxurious brown as her son's. Even their smile was the same, bright and giving when open, wry and smirked when closed, with quiet dimples showing in both.

"Thomas!" She cooed as she quickened over to him, parking her luggage roughly to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. Thomas hugged back warmly, briefly resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Hey Mrs N." He named her fondly. He loved Newt's mother more then his own, and felt a hundred times more loved in return, despite how little they saw each other. Hannah stepped back, holding on to his shoulder as she looked up at him admirably. He felt his cheeks warm under her motherly gaze.

"Just look at you!" She beamed sweetly. "Just as handsome as the day I last saw you, I hope my Newt knows just how lucky he is!" She pinched his cheeks, making him recoil in embarrassment. "Tell me Thomas," She said once she had stopped laughing, "Where are you hiding that son of mine?"

He smiled apologetically, "Something came up last minute at work, he couldn't make it in time."

"Sounds about right." A deep voice came from behind Mrs Newton. Newt got his fair looks, warm eyes and golden hair from his mother, whereas his height, strong jawline and long legs he inherited from his father. Issac Newton Senior was a tall man, half a head taller than his son, and stood a whole head higher than Thomas. His dark silvery hair was clipped short, and his ice blue eyes, though piercing, held a certain warmth in them. On either side of him was another suitcase, each the same colour as his wife's, and both looking just as heavy.

"It is good to see you though Thomas, you are looking well." He spoke with an accent stronger than both his wife and his son, charming and eloquent.

Thomas accepted his strong and firm handshake. "Newt will be home when we get there, with food, he promised." He took hold of one of the cases handles, taking it in tow as he lead the Newtons out of the airport. "Three cases?" He inquired curiously at the hefty weight of the one he was lugging. "Are you staying a while?"

Hannah seemed unperturbed by her own luggage, dragging it behind her at a strong pace. "No, we fly back on Monday. We'd love to stay longer, but Issac's work needs him back." 

Thomas smiled at that,  _like father like son,_ he thought to himself. He briefly remembered his earlier phone call with his blonde, and how closed off he had sounded when he had asked about his work.  _I have to trust him, if it was anything important, he would tell me. He promised._

"One suitcase for me, one for Issac and one for the wedding." Hannah continued. "You can't pack lightly for a wedding weekend, especially for one on the other side of the world."

Her husband gave Thomas a knowing look. "What she means is, one case for me, and two for her. Speaking of the wedding though, from what Newt has told us, were here more as reinforcements than wedding guests." 

He unlocked the car to let his guests in and loaded two of their cases into the boot. Guilt washed over him, he hadn't even noticed it before, but he was using the Newtons. He needed support, and when Newt had felt he wasn't enough, he got his own parents involved like a vanguard's reinforcements. Neither the bride nor groom had asked them to come, and Newt only had in order to make Thomas feel more comfortable. He quickly positioned the last case on the back seat next to Issac before sitting behind the wheel.

"Thomas its okay." Sensing his sudden tension, Hannah rested a gentle hand on his knee. "We understand. It's not like its your wedding. Now if we weren't the first ones on the guest list to _that_ wedding, there would be problems. Besides, it's a great excuse to get away for the weekend, and were more than happy to help you."

He gripped the steering wheel tight,  _is this what it's like to have parents who love you?_  It overwhelmed him, their caring for him had been so instant, and willing, and strong, so much stronger than his parents had ever shown. He felt bad, he was putting them out and they were too gullible or too nice to say no. 

"Relax." The deep voice from the back of the car resonated through the air. "I know it can't be easy for you, facing your parents again after how they treated you." He put his hand out when Thomas went to say something, stopping him in his tracks. "Newt told us everything that he knows. Were not here to cause a scene, or to make arguments, were just here to support our boys and enjoy the wedding."

_Our boys..._ Thomas blinked away a sudden urge to cry, he felt weak, emotional... loved. A love that Newt could never give him, a parental love that he had grown up without, unconditional and undeserved. "Thank you guys." Was all he found himself able to say, before starting the engine. 

* * *

The succulent aroma of take away food filled his nostrils as he opened the front door to their humble apartment, and he mentally thanked the heavens at the confirmation of his boyfriend's presence. 

"Were home!" He bellowed down the hall. He stepped to the side to allow their temporary housemates through, shutting it behind him to keep the wintry chill out. He smiled as he watched Newt jog down the hallway, burying himself into his parents. 

"Mum! Dad!" He declared as he hugged each in turn before ushering them into the kitchen area. "You guys made good time, how was the flight?"

"Better time than you did." His father observed with a smirk, "Flight was long, but there's not much to be done about that. Could murder a cup of tea though."

Thomas rolled his eyes.  _Brits, take them half way around the world and the first thing they'll want is a cup of tea._ "I'm just gonna unload your luggage into the guest bedroom, upstairs, turn right, second door on your left."

"Oh don't worry about that now Thomas." Hannah fussed. "Come sit down with us and have a drink. You're not our bellboy."

"It's no problem Mrs.N, and besides, how else will I earn my tip?" He turned round to the sweet music of her laughter, making his way to the front door before a gentle hand pulled at his waist, turning him around. Newt took him by surprised as he captured him with a sweet kiss, holding him close. Thomas felt his shoulders relax in the hold as he slid his hands down the blonde's back. 

"Hi." Newt said huskily as they broke apart.

 

Thomas smiled, rubbing small circles at the blonde's sides. "Well hello there."

"Thank you for sorting everything out, and sorry for dumping them on you last minute."

He let go of Newt to find his hands, squeezing them gently. "Was nothing. Besides, your folks are awesome. How was your day?" He tried his luck, though like most chancers, deep down, he already knew the outcome.

"Okay I guess, just took longer than I thought is all. I'll get dinner out, just dump their cases in the room, don't take too long fussing over them."

"Spoken like a true son." Thomas chuckled as Newt smacked him in the belly. They kissed again quickly, before Newt rejoined his parents at the dining table. 

All of the suitcases were heavy, and Thomas struggled to heave them upstairs. Upon their leaving, the Newtons would have to pack downstairs, there was no way he could get the full cases back downstairs without doing some serious damage. After ten minutes he plonked the third case on the floor of the guest bedroom, and did a quick scour of the room to make sure it was fit for new guests. Wiping his brow, his arm came back slick with sweat. He quickly changed his top and re-deodorized before descending downstairs. His footsteps were soft, and the sound of his name made him stop. After a moment's thought he sat down on the step he was on, deciding to chance his ear and listen for a moment.

"He worships the ground you walk on Newt, I can see it in his eyes. I am so happy you found him, after everything with Alby I-

"Mum please, for once can we not bring up the past? It's over." Newt already sounded exasperated from his mother hen. 

"You're right son. We need only look to the future, you and Thomas. Do you think the sound of wedding bells could inspire a proposal out of either of you?"

Thomas clapped a hand to his mouth as he heard Newt choke on his tea, struggling to keep the laughter from giving away his position. In truth, marrying Newt had never really crossed his mind, he couldn't see a need for it. They loved each other, they trusted each other, that was enough as far as he was concerned. But what did Newt want? They had never spoken about it, so he had no idea. He remembered in the car Hannah had mentioned their marriage, and how they had better be the first guests on the list. 

"Mum seriously!? You're in my house five minutes and were talking marriage?"

"Well we are here for a wedding..."

"Yes, but not mine!" 

"You don't want to marry Thomas?" His father cut through the debate. 

Thomas sat still on the stairs, his arms folded over his knees, his head leant to one side in contemplation. He wasn't sure what he wanted. To many marriage was a fundamental part of love, the vows, the rings, the binding of one soul to another until death parted them. Was that something they needed to prove to each other? Had they not already shown their dedication over the years?"

"Do I want to marry Thomas?" Newt quoted the question out loud to himself with a sigh. "Truth is, I don't know. Do I want to spend the rest of my life with him? Without a shadow of a doubt. I feel safer with him than I ever have been, despite the circumstances, and I've never felt more at home. That's all I need to know, and I don't need a gold ring to know that." 

"I thank God every night that you found him all those years ago. When I think back to what you went through, and if he wasn't there..."

"Mum please... you've traveled all this way, can we talk about something else? What do you think of your hotel for the weekend?"

"It's more modest that I was expecting." Issac said bluntly. "Nice though, and well kept. Though I'm sure that's for our benefit. I'm sure Thomas had a swell day tidying up before our arrival."

Newt's laughter filled the room freely, "Yup, spot on father."

_Not all day... just all afternoon._ He liked Newt's father. Not a word out of his mouth was ever meant to be offensive, but he could be blunt and very dry. However, hanging out with Newt for so long meant Thomas was more accustomed to British humor. Though he wasn't sure how Minho would take it... or his own father. Realizing the conversation had begun to move on, he quietly crept back to the top of the stairs. From there he descended them again, more loudly and heavier than before, the sentimental words spoken about him swelling his heart.

"Chinese... man do I need some Chinese right now." He exclaimed, rubbing at his belly as he sat down in front of the plate Newt had dished out for him. He noticed the others all sitting round the table were half-finished with their meals, their tea almost gone from their mugs. "Sorry I was so long, you guys don't pack light. Did you want more tea?" He said in between mouthfuls of duck. 

"I think Newt was just about to open the wine weren't you dear?" Hannah asked her son sweetly. Newt just rolled his eyes. "Subtle as always mother." 

The four of them ate their meals with pleasant conversation, easy music, and sweet wine. Newt's parents were eager to finally meet his sister and friend, and wanted to know all about them. Newt just sat and watched him as he talked, gazing at him as he sipped at his wine. Soon enough, plates were cleared and the four of them retired in front of the television to watch a film, tiredness overtaking them, and the inevitable jet-lag the Newtons would no doubt suffer from. As he sat there, snuggled next to Newt on the sofa, Hannah next to them, and Issac on the separate arm chair, all fed, watered and content, he finally understood. Thomas finally understood what family really was. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I Hope you enjoy this one, sorry it's taken me so long. I spent a lot of time staring at a blinking cursor, mind blank and fingers frozen above the keyboard. I do hope my writing has not suffered from the struggle. Either way, you're probably not going to like me very much by the end of the chapter ;)

Thomas grinned as he hugged Newt close to him from behind, their shared body heat protecting them both from the cold morning air. Their bedroom was still dark, the sun had not yet stirred from below the horizon, and any potential light had been drowned in a blanket of thick cloud. It was the last day of the year's second month, and though spring was round the corner, the days were still cold and gloomy. 

 "Can't believe you got the whole weekend off." He said lazily as he buried his face in Newt's hair, comfortably using it as his new pillow. The blonde shifted slightly, leaning back into him as he awoke. He found Thomas' hand and brought it round to hold around him, letting out a content sigh in their new position. Thomas kissed his head, thinking he could stay like this forever.

"Thank my boss, she insisted." Newt murmured sleepily. "I should probably get up, Mum would've been up since the early hours, she's never dealt with jet lag well."

Thomas tightened his grip on his boyfriend. "No." He objected childishly, awarding a chuckle from Newt. "It's cold, and you're my radiator."

He leaned back as Newt rolled over on the spot, snuggling up, he rested his head under Thomas' chin, laying a soft kiss on his Adam's apple. "I guess a little longer won't hurt." 

They stayed like that until at last the early morning darkness succumbed to gentle sunshine, and the smell of breakfast cooking, and the sound of plates clattering crept up from downstairs. 

"Dammit." Newt scolded, rolling on to his back to stretch. "Their cooking, we should get up." Thomas remembered Hannah's cooking from his visit to England. Another trait she passed down to her son was good kitchen skills, and she knew how to put on an unnecessary spread like no other. She would find a way to use up all the food in their cupboards in one sitting. Although right now, Thomas couldn't care less as he lay with an arm around Newt's waist as the blonde now sat up against the headboard. 

"No." He didn't know what the time was, nor did he care. He had shut The Homestead for the entire wedding weekend, and with Newt off as well, he wanted to spend as much of the precious time together as he could. Especially with his own parents presence looming in his very immediate future. "Just a few more minutes, hit the snooze button."

His boyfriend yawned lazily, swatting away his arm gently. "My parents don't have a snooze button Tommy. Besides, what sort of hosts are we if we sleep whilst they cook?"

"Hosts who love each other very much, and want to spent their mornings lazing in bed... or maybe not so lazily? If you get my drift." He leant in, propping his chin on the blonde's shoulder with the softest puppy eyes he could muster. Newt cocked an eyebrow at him in response.

"No sex whilst my parents are staying with us." Newt declared, though he made no further movements to escape Thomas' hold. "Besides, I need to get going if you want any food done for tonight."

Thomas sighed heavily, the prospect of the next couple of days darkening his early morning cheeriness. As Minho's last night as a free man, the men in his life were getting together to celebrate. Being best man, Thomas had reluctantly agreed to organize and orchestrate the evening, and was forever thankful that Minho had insisted on keeping it low key. Not one for clubbing, the last thing Thomas wanted to do was find himself spending the evening in some strip club, in the company of the lustful and the intoxicated. Playing his hand safe, his Homestead was to be the setting, with friends, drinks, stories... and his father. He had hoped, being of an older generation, that his man would decline the invitation Thomas had felt bound to offer; but he had not. 

He had been sixteen when he saw his father last. Thomas had felt the urgent need to abandon his homophobic household for the sake of both his safety and sanity, and had had no communication with either of his parents since. They say time heals all wounds, but the long stretch of time with no attempt from his parents to even try to build a new relationship with him only left a burning hatred in his heart. A hatred born from anger and neglect. 

"Can't believe I'm doing this." He mumbled, turning over to bury himself in the duvet. He wished he could hide under it all day and that no-one would notice. "Why am I doing this?" He questioned, his soft voice muffled under the heavy bedding material. Newt lay a gentle hand on him, pinching ever so softly to gain his attention.

"Because you love your sister and your friend very much, and you want them to be happy."

"Not true." He retorted, peeking out from under the covers to meet Newt's eyes. The blonde just smiled at him, shaking his head knowingly. Even if he had said the words menacingly, Newt would not have believed him; he was too close to both the bride and her groom for it to ever be true. 

"How do you think I feel at the prospect of meeting your parents?" Newt tried a different tactic. "If I can get up and face the day then so can you. At least when you met mine I knew for sure they were gonna love you. All I know about your parents is that they are definitely going to hate me."

Thomas found Newt's hands with his own, squeezing them softly, rubbing his thumb over the white knuckles in his usual calming notion. He was so wrapped up in his own anxiety, he sometimes forgot Newt was in the same position as he was, worse if anything. His parents would no doubt blame Newt for their son not being with a woman, and from his memory, his dad had a wicked tongue with no filter. 

"You don't have to come, Minho would understand." He offered weakly. In truth, the thought of facing the stag night without Newt did not settle well with him, but he'd rather the blonde felt comfortable over his own needs. Newt however, simply shook his head.

"I can't escape the wedding, and I'll see him there. I can't hide forever, might as well get it over with." He gave Thomas one last soft kiss before leaving the warmth of their covers, shivering as he padded into their bathroom. Soon Thomas heard the shower running, and he finally dared the cold air as he quickly changed into a plush navy dressing gown and matching slippers. It was nearly ten, and it was about time one of them confirmed they were still alive to their guests.

After stretching the idleness out of his limbs, he descended downstairs to find Hannah Newton nursing a large cup of her usual drink as she stood by the back door. The clear glass sliding door was as tall as the room, and the full length curtains were drawn back, admitting soft rays of light upon her gentle face. She was dressed ready for the day, in a pale blue vest top and rose coloured chinos, but Thomas could see the effects of a sleepless night in her eyes. 

"Morning Mrs N." He greeted the kind woman as he padded into the kitchen, "Not sleep well?" 

She tore her gaze from the wild birds pecking at the soft ground outside, offering him an easy smile. "I got off okay, but I was awake again by the early hours. I'm glad Teresa just wanted to spend tonight with her mum, I don't think I could have stayed awake for anything if I tried." As if to prove the point, a  deep yawn erupted from her, making her eyes close as she attempted to stifle it. "There's a plate keeping warm in the oven if you're hungry, one for my son too if he ever gets up today."

His stomach piqued at the mention of food, but he wanted to make the most of his time off with Newt and eat breakfast with him. "You shouldn't have worried about making us breakfast, you're our guests. If anything we should be making you breakfast, in bed." He retrieved a carton of orange juice from the fridge, drinking straight from the carton, he took a deep drought to quench his thirst. 

"I wanted to, and I was up and awake anyhow. You boys have a lot going on, and were using up your living space; its the least I could do." She explained as a washed and dressed Newt emerged from the hallway. "Morning dear." She chimed. Setting her tea down, she retrieved the two plates of food and set them on the table. "You eat up now, both of you, I'm going to sort my stuff out."

"Where's dad?" Newt inquired, stopping his mother from going as he put the kettle on to boil. He had slung on a pair of grey jogging bottoms and a loose fitting jumper, his usual attire for running errands. 

"He's popped out to find a wedding present, we didn't want to bring anything from England in case it got damaged whilst travelling." She saw Thomas' eyebrows raise as he chewed on fried bread. "He's surprisingly good at gift shopping." She elaborated. "Much better than I am."  

Newt agreed. "True, I've had plenty of experience on birthdays and Christmas: Dad is the better shopper, though you wouldn't think of it to look at him."

They sat and ate breakfast together as Mrs Newton ascended the stairs, planning what needed to be done before that night before tidying up. Afterwards, Thomas showered whilst Newt and his mother busied themselves in the kitchen; preparing the food for the stag night later on. He had just exited the bathroom, his hair still dripping where he hadn't yet dried it, when his phone rang from the back pocket of the jeans that he had left sprawled on the bed. 

"Hello?" He answered as he casually dried himself with one hand. 

"Thomas, you free to talk?" His sister's gentle voice greeted his ear.

"Sure, give me a minute." The heating was on, but it was not enough and the chilled air spread goosebumps across his naked figure. He quickly dressed before returning to his phone. "Sorry, what's up?"

"We have a bit of a problem."

His heart dropped at the sentence, it was not one a bride should be saying the day before her wedding, though her voice was calm and steady. "What do you mean bit of a problem? Are you okay?"

"Yes I'm fine, were fine." She assured him quickly. "There's been a bit of a logistical error with Minho's parents. Their flight has been cancelled and they can't get another until tomorrow morning at the earliest. There's no way they can make it in time for the wedding."

Thomas felt for his friend. Minho's parents owned a successful global business in storing and selling shelving units, and a lot of their business was dealt within their native country, South Korea. Recently both his mother and father had flown over to handle a substantial deal, one that would now be at the cost of their own son's wedding. 

"Wow, that's tough. Is Min okay?"

"Yes he's fine, his heart is as thick as his head, but it does mean some alterations have to be made..."

Thomas slumped as he sat on the edge of the bed, already guessing of the consequences of the absence of Minho's parents. "Go on."

His sister spoke fast, as if it could hide the impact. "Without his parents our head table is half empty, with just us and our parents. Were two seats short, and we need you and Newt to fill them. I know, you didn't want to be on the same table as mum and dad, but it would mean so much to both of us if you would accept it. Plus, the table is long and one-sided, you'll be sat on the other side of them, in between Newt and Minho. So, please Thomas?"

The single request he had laid down when Teresa had announced her engagement, was that he would not have to sit near, or have anything to do with either of his parents. Now it seemed he had no other choice, unless he wanted to spoil the aesthetics of his own sister's wedding. At the very least, he should not find himself in a position to play small talk at the table, they would still be too far apart for that. It was just dinner after all, and in between his boyfriend and best friend, he didn't see a way for him to refuse. 

"Of course, not a problem. What about Newt's parents though?" The English couple had flown a long way for the wedding, and would now find themselves eating separate from their son. 

"There's nothing I can do, they'll have each other at least, and it's only for the duration of the meal. Thank you Thomas, I appreciate it, I really do." There was a pause, and Thomas could almost feel the apprehension from the other side through the phone. "I guess the next time I see you, will be at the altar."

"You'll be all in white." He confirmed. "Looking radiantly beautiful as you glide down the aisle." 

His sister let out an uncharacteristic squeal down the phone. "I can't believe this is happening, if someone told me six months ago that I would be wobbling down the aisle, with a baby inside me, I'd have told them to do one. Now were here, it's all happened so quickly, like a dream. I hope everything goes to plan. You will look after Minho tonight won't you? I don't want him hungover or late, and please try and stay civil with our folks."

"Teresa chill." He could sense her getting more and more wound up. "Everything will be fine, you're just getting last minute nerves, nothing to worry about. Relax tonight with mum, let her look after you, I'll look after Minho, and I will see you tomorrow."

"Thomas... thank you." She whispered down the phone before hanging up. Thomas fell back on to the bed, letting his arm flop to his side, releasing its grip of his phone. He wanted his sister to be happy more than anything, but deep down, the wedding day had just gotten a little bit harder for him. Still, there was nothing he could do about it, except keep his head down and plow on through. Besides, he had the stag to get through before the wedding; _one step at a time Thomas._  

He found Newt and Hannah still in the kitchen as he returned, the elder blonde busy egg-washing sausage rolls, whilst the younger was filling boob-shaped jelly moulds with a clear liquid. "Vodka jellies." He explained at Thomas' curious complexion. 

"You know, I've got a parade of drinks that Darnell has got lined up to serve, you sure you want to add these as well?"

Newt nodded enthusiastically. "I haven't got properly bladdered in far too long, and with the prospect of meeting you father, I think I am going to need it."

"Now boys." Hannah wagged a finger at them. "Don't be getting too messy, we want you all somewhat sober for tomorrow."

"I'll make sure they behave themselves dear." Mr Newton appeared from behind a newspaper where he sat at the table, his sudden voice and presence surprising Thomas; he had not been aware that he had returned. 

"You I worry about most of all." His wife countered, making them all laugh.

The next few hours went by with a gentle ease that made it go all too quickly. He helped Issac wrap the crystal wine glasses and decanter he had bought the betrothed, neither of them particularly skilled at wrapping square objects, let alone those of an irregular shape. Between Newt and himself, they managed a happy mess as they piped profiteroles before filling them with pistachio cream. Soon enough Mrs Newton had managed to find the album he had made, showing the journey of his relationship with his boyfriend, and all their precious moments. He was happily sat with her on the comfy sofa in the lounge, with tea in hand and an album open on his lap when Newt's phone rang.

"Hello?" He heard the blonde answer from the kitchen. "What? Right now? Are you serious?" Thomas stopped what he was doing, and silence cloaked the house as Newt listened to his caller. Thomas didn't need to be told who it was, deep down he knew, and a horrible realization overcame him: he would have to suffer the stag night alone.

"Fuck me." Newt cursed as he stormed into the lounge, chucking his phone into the vacant armchair. His mother simply watched him, usually she would scold her son for such language, but she must have sensed the mood that had settled, for she said nothing.

Ava?" Thomas asked tentatively, knowing what the answer would be. Newt held his hands up in the air before letting them fall back down in defeat.

"She needs me to go in. Someone has reported a suspected kidnapping not too far from here, they want me to collect evidence at the scene as soon as possible."

"How far is not too far?"

"About forty miles, with kidnapping time is critical, the first few hours can determine everything. Fuck, of all nights for it to happen."

"Is there no-one else who can go in your stead?"

"The rest of the team are up for court tomorrow, they can't be distracted. All that's left is Dominic, our field rookie, I'll meet him there and run him through things." Newt gently picked the photo album from his grip and set it on the floor. He sat in Thomas' lap, holding on tight as he kissed his temple. Thomas closed his eyes at the touch, squeezing tightly to the comfort blanket that he would now be losing for the night. "I'm sorry Tommy, I can't get out of it, I wish that I could."

"Am I going to see you at all tonight?" He inquired sadly.

Newt's hair scratched against his skin as he shrugged. "I doubt it... maybe. Once I collect what I need I can send Dom back to the lab with it, from there he knows exactly what to do. I'll call you when I'm on my way home okay?" Newt closed his eyes as he brought their lips together. Thomas kept his open, gazing at the fair eyelashes that fell upon high cheekbones. He held on to Newt dearly, hoping that if he gripped hard enough, the blonde would give in and shirk off his duties. 

"You going now?" Hannah asked as Newt stood up and found his police jacket and badge that was slung over the armchair; he nodded in response.

"Sooner I go, the sooner I can get back. Thomas, all the food is pretty much done, Mum if you can just use the platter dishes on the side and cover them in foil." Thomas followed his boyfriend as he quickly made his way to the front door. "Dad! Look after Thomas tonight until I get there."

"Do you think you'll get back in time?" Thomas asked him after Newt had changed into jeans and they had reached the door. Their day had been going so nicely, he had all but forgotten his apprehension regarding his father. Now Newt would not be there, he felt alone, cold and vulnerable. When Newt hugged him one more time he thought he might not be able to let go. 

"I'm gonna try Tommy. I'll call you okay?" One last kiss, and he was gone. 

He returned sadly to help Newt's mother pack up the food ready to take to The Homestead. The two parents tried to keep his mind occupied with menial tasks, but all he could think of was how Newt would be out in the cold swabbing some poor soul's DNA off the floor, when he should be by his side. He decided to turn up to the stag night fashionably late, hoping his bringing of food would excuse him for such tardiness. 

He had rung Minho before leaving, so his friend would be ready and waiting by the door to help them in. Thomas carried three stacked trays of sausage rolls, onion bhajis, and mini pizzas, whilst Issac couriered the more delicate puddings and vodka jellies. The trays were wide in his arms, and surprisingly heavy on his outstretched muscles. The wind was bitter, attacking them as they walked briskly from the cab to their destination. His friend was there as promised, ready with the door wide open to let them in.

"Where have you been? Your'e late!" Minho called as they approached the building. His friend glanced around him briefly; a perplexed look on his face. "Where's Newt?"

"Long story." He muttered as he hurried through the door to get out of the cold. He dropped his trays on the nearest surface he could find, relieved to have the weight off of him. Issac followed suit, though he placed his load down with much more care. The ground floor was dark, but sounds of music and laughter could be heard from upstairs. He was only fifteen minutes late, but it seemed like the shenanigans were well under way. 

"Everything okay?" Minho asked as he locked the door. A hand-written sign hung from the glass panel, declaring to any by-passers that the premises was closed to the public for the weekend due to a private celebration. 

"His work called him in, tonight of all nights, he said he'd call me once he's done. He's hoping to get here later." Minho gave him a sympathetic look before shifting his gaze to the older man within their company.

"You must be Newt's father, Issac? I'm Minho, tonight's stag." He offered his hand out, which Mr Newton willingly took with the same warmth and surety he had with Thomas.

"A pleasure to meet you at last Minho. Congratulations on your wedding weekend, I am sorry for our lateness, time ran away with us. Shall we proceed with the celebrations?"

They followed Minho up the stairs, their labour much lighter now it was shared between three people.  _Newt would have been here to help, then it wouldn't have been such a struggle._

"Your father's just as frigid as I remember him." Minho whispered back to him as they ascended. "He's been friendly enough I guess, but I'm not sure that he's too happy I'm marrying his daughter. I'm glad I'm sleeping at yours tonight, its so awkward sleeping under the same roof as them." 

"Sounds about right." Thomas mumbled in response. His climb up the last few steps were heavy with anticipation as it dawned on him that he was now in the same room as his father. 

The higher floor was alive and buzzing, crowded with people, some he knew, and some he did not recognize. Half of the seats at the bar were taken, and Darnell was busy making drinks for two youngish guys whom he had never met before. They had not changed the layout from its usual design. Circular tables dotted around the floor, leaving enough space for a dance floor at the back - which he hoped would remain unused this evening. He quickly made his way over to an empty wall which was solely occupied by a long narrow table; quilted with a simple white tablecloth. He made his eyes fix in front of him, not risking a glance round the room. He did not want to come across his dad until it was made absolutely necessary. 

Minho and Issac helped him quickly set up the food banquet,  _Newt made all of this, and he won't even get to enjoy any of it._ He shook his head, scolding himself. He had to stop thinking of what it would be like if Newt was there with him. He wasn't, and thinking about him would not making him magically appear either. 

"Oi! Tom-boy!" A voice called out to him. Thomas turned around to see a tall man striding towards him. He was of his own age, with short cropped blond hair, high ears, and a handsome grin. Next to him was a larger black man with short hair of the same colour, and a smooth-skinned, friendly face. 

"Ben? Fry?" He should not have been surprised to see his old college friends. With Minho, the four of them could hardly be separated. He knew Minho still kept in touch, but Thomas had unintentionally drifted apart from his younger life, in the hopes of forgetting it. Some ghosts however, he was more than happy to see again. 

Ben clapped him hard on the back whilst handing him a shot glass filled with a green liqueur. "Long time no see buddy! Proof that you are not dead, AND Minho's going under the thumb, tonight is definitely one for celebration! First drinks on me!" He declared as he handed a shot glass to Minho and Fry, as well as Isaac.

Thomas laughed, "Drinks on you? That whole bloody bar is on me!" 

"You're starting to pick up words from Newt." Mr Newton commented as he handed back his now empty shot glass. Thomas blinked, staring at the empty vessel the older man had been so quick to drain.

"He's quick!" Ben observed. "Young ones need to catch up. Ready? Go!"

Thomas downed his shot, his tongue fizzing from the sharp apple flavour. He heard a disgusted sound from Fry and a cheer from Ben as he disappeared to get another round. Looking around, Thomas vaguely remembered a few faces from school, but no-one he felt a particular need to reacquaint himself with. In one corner stood a small group, their biceps and toned bodies made him guess they worked with Minho during his short stint as a personal trainer.  _  
_

The message that food had arrived had soon spread around the room, and Thomas sidled around the quickly gathering hoard of hungry men. After catching up with Fry and Ben, he left his old friends talking to Issac to find the bar. It was fairly quiet there now most of the guests were eating, and he took a seat near the end. Darnell, looking smart in a crisp white shirt patterned with small silver spirals and a matching dickie bow greeted him with his charismatic smile. 

"Hey boss, what can I getcha?" He asked casually as he cleaned down the bar counter. Thomas wasn't sure why, but his young staff hardly ever referred to him by his actual name; he guessed he could blame Sonya that, though in truth, he didn't really care. He thought for a moment, remembering the list of available cocktails, and Darnell's skill level.

"Godfather please, seeing as I will be one before long."  

"Make that two young man." Thomas froze at the gravely voice he recognized all too well. The man who spoke occupied the seat next to him as Darnell turned his back on them to fix their drinks. Thomas kept his gaze forward, his mouth was suddenly desert dry, and just sitting next to the man made him feel the need to wash.

"Dad." He acknowledged after a few moments of silence once it became clear his father was not going to be moving on. Darnell placed the drinks in front of then, Thomas picked his up and took a large swig. The whisky was strong, but the drink was warming to the soul, he took another draft. His father's drink remained untouched on the counter.

"Anything else boss?"

"No thank you. Darnell? Could you leave us please? I think there's some people over there who might need serving, I'll call you if I need anything else."

The bartender glanced a look between the two men sat at his bar before doing as he was bid. "Sure thing."

Silence engulfed them, and Thomas busied himself with finishing his drink, trying to stir whatever courage he might have. He knew his father was there, but he had not spotted him, and the bastard had snuck up on him when he was unaware, and unprepared. 

"How are you?" He asked the obligatory question.

"No need for the mandatory pleasantries Thomas. I am in no need of them, and I don't intend in partaking either."

He swallowed thickly. "As you wish. Why are you here?"

"My daughter had taken it upon herself to marry that fool friend of yours. It is customary for the father of the bride to attend the stag on his last night, whether he wants to or not."

Thomas wondered if his sister knew their father disapproved of her choice of groom. No doubt it stemmed from when Minho had taken Thomas in all those years ago when he had nowhere else to go. 

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Why have you come to find me?"

The man barked a laugh. "Do not flatter yourself, I did not come to find you. This is a small enough place for two people to come across one another, and I fancied a drink. I have been told this shabby little place is your life's work and legacy? I must say, even for you, its a disappointment."

Thomas caught Darnell's attention by waving his empty glass, requesting a replacement. "Thanks Dad. Anything else?" He finally looked at his father, putting as much of his hatred for the man into his eyes, whilst maintaining his calm exterior. He would not lose his cool in front of the man, he would not give him that pleasure. 

Mr Newton was tall, with broad shoulders and an unnatural rigidity to him. His hair was short, and all grey, as was the stubble that covered the edges of his face. His eyes were a cool silver, always cold and calculating, never warm; at least, not when they looked at his son. His lips were thin, and his nose long and hard, a stern looking man at the best of times, he found it easy to overshadow people. Where Newt had inherited features from both his parents, Thomas took mostly after his mother. Looking into his father's eyes, were like looking into a strangers. 

"I am surprised you are here alone tonight. I was hoping to meet this boy of yours you've chosen to fuck away your days with. Did you scare him away, or did I?"

"Work." His father was trying his best to get under his skin. All these years and he didn't even want to try to be civil, instead trying to rile him anyway he could. 

"What does he do?"

"Crime scene investigator." Thomas said proudly, he loved saying it. "He got a call out not long before we were due here."

His father gave him a cold smile. "Well at least one of you has made something of himself." 

Darnell replaced his empty glass with a fresh Godfather, its golden liquid warm and tempting. Thomas quickly indulged in half of it, necking it back in one gulp. 

"Anything else you want to insult me about? Or are we done here? I would like to go and find my friends."

He made to move but a strong arm clutched onto his shoulder with an iron grip. "Believe me Thomas, it pains me to have to sit here with you too." He spat. "I'm here to make sure you do as I say."

Thomas gave his dad a funny look. "Do as you say? Since when do I do that?"

Grey eyes turned to ice, and he recoiled slightly in his seat under the firm grip. "You will not attend the wedding tomorrow." His father commanded sternly. "I will not have you spoil the day with your frivolities. You stay away, and keep your fuck buddy with you do you understand?"

Despite everything Thomas could not help but smile. "By frivolities you mean gayness right? You think that we will ruin Teresa's day with our gayness? Don't be so pathetic. You couldn't give a shit about Teresa, you just don't want your gay son embarrassing you." He finished his drink and slammed his glass on the counter. "And don't you dare refer to Newt as my fuck buddy. We love each other, and have done all these years, he's worth a lot more to me than you are."

"You are wasting good genes on that boy." Mr Newton growled. "Minho is hardly cream of the crop, but Teresa has made a good life for herself, and her future child. You however, are throwing the family name away on some tight arsehole." 

Thomas wrenched himself free from the man's grip as he stood up. He felt hot anger running through his veins, willing him to beat his old man, to beat him senseless. Flashes of red dotted his vision, his breathing increased as he felt his heart rapidly pumping inside his chest. His father looked at him with such cool contempt he nearly lost it, but he didn't. Instead he took deep breaths, and let everything ride over his back, he would not let him get to him. If he started something, people would look back and blame him for the ruination of the wedding. 

"I'm not sorry for who I am, I'm not sorry that I'm not who you want me to be. I'm not sorry for who I am with, or what I have built here around me. I am proud of all of it, and your cold judgement cannot take that away from me. I'm not asking you to be my father, so stop asking me to be your son."

He grabbed his father's untouched drink and walked away, only turning back when his father called back.

"You were a mistake Thomas, no doubt. But you were my finest mistake."

He downed his third drink in response, unsure what meaning lay behind those words, before submerging himself in the crowded room to relocate his friends. He had not eaten, and his body felt light as he made his way over to find some substance for his stomach. He found Minho there, piling his plate with as much as it could take. Thomas joined him, helping himself to a sausage roll. The pastry flaked under his bite, and the spiced meat inside made his taste buds spring to life. 

"How'd it go then?" Minho got straight to the point. "Your dad is a tough piece of work, he doesn't like me, he made that very clear."

"You've given him a granddaughter, he'll fake niceness to you forever for that. Me, I'm just a waste of space he likes to torment. He asked me, no, he _told_ me not to come to the wedding."

Minho's face dropped. "He what? He can't do that, you have to be there!"

It was plain to see his friend had had a lot more to drink than he had. Even Issac, who was laughing merrily along with Ben and Fry over a tray of empty shot glasses, was doing a better job of getting drunk than he was. He put a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "If you think I would listen to my father, you can't know me very well Min. We'll be there, me and Newt, and he can suck it."

Minho grinned stupidly at him. "That calls for a drink. Ben!" He bellowed across to the table the others were sat at. "Get a few more rounds in, drinking contest! Come on Thomas, I'm marrying your sister tomorrow, if that doesn't make you want to get smashed into oblivion, I don't know what will!"

Thomas laughed, glad to be back among friendlier company. "Okay okay, I'll be over in a minute, let me get some food to prepare my stomach first." He waited until his friend had gone before checking his phone, hopeful for some attempt of communication. There was none, not a text or a missed call. Thomas really needed to hear Newt's voice, but when he tried to call it went straight to answer machine. The blonde was probably on his hands and knees swabbing up blood off the cold floor, too busy to answer his mobile. Sadly, Thomas shoved his hone back into his pocket and went to join his friends.

He wished Newt was there to share the evening with him, Ben and Fry would have loved him, and it would have been great to see Issac senior and junior get drunk together. After a dozen shots he knew he was completely gone as he wavered where he sat, giggling at every little thing like a school girl. They were all happy drunks, he laughed at everything, Issac's smile never left his face, and Ben and Minho got louder and louder until Fry declared he would be deaf by the morning. By the time he thought of checking in with Newt, his phone told him it was one in the morning. The place was still full of people, and he had not seen or heard from his father since; Thomas hoped he had skulked off back to Teresa and his wife. 

Using all of his concentration, he dialed Newt's number, only to hear the beep of the answer machine again asking him to leave a message. 

"That's odd." He slurred as Ben handed him yet another shot. He wasn't sure he wanted to drink anymore, but he sure as hell would not be the first one in their group to give up. Especially when Mr Newton was still going strong. 

"What?" Ben and Minho asked together, making Fry laugh out loud. 

"I haven't heard from Newt, at all. I thought he would have let me know if he would be working this late."

Ben leaned in close, "Aw Tom-boy, you're kinda cute when you frown. You get all pouty like this." The taller man stuck out his bottom lip as far as it would go. He looked ridiculous.

"Do not." Thomas countered as Ben rested his head on his shoulder. He nudged it off, making the other man chuckle. "I forgot you turn as gay as me when you're drunk." The group of men carried on laughing and drinking. Thomas managed to sly a couple of shot glasses into a potted plant behind him, the others were far too drunk to catch him in the act. His mind was too full of Newt, he guessed he was either still working at the lab, or had gone straight home and to bed. He considered calling Hannah, but decided against it, the woman needed her sleep, and he did not want to disturb her.

"Thomas! Get out of your head and drink man!" Minho ordered him as he stood over him. His hand on Thomas' shoulder was probably the only thing keeping the Asian up, and he proved it by shifting his shoulder out the way. Minho over balanced, and fell to the floor in an ungracious heap. Everyone nearby roared with laughter, and Thomas joined in, resigning himself to the rest of the night, and whatever hangover he would suffer in the morning. 

* * *

Newt cursed the cold wind that ran right through him, his jet black uniform gilet doing nothing to protect him from the tempered gales. His police badge swung from his breast pocket each time a new gust swept over him. He cursed Dominic, who had ignored all of his calls and left him to carry out the tedious task alone. It was late, and the sun had long since set, leaving the sky dark and black. The scene where the kidnapping supposedly took place was small and dank, a wide alley in between two deserted buildings; his only company was a dirty skip, a couple of trash cans, and a police guard who stood at the end of the alley. He flashed his torch down into the darkness to find a metal fence blocked off the passage, leaving him with only a small area in which to work with. 

It was quiet, no traffic passed, and the police officer who stood with his back to him had made no attempt at casual conversation. Newt decided not to start either, no doubt the poor solo guard wanted to get back home as much as he did. He holstered his normal torch and pulled out his UV light, turning it on he paced towards the back of the alley, swooping his beam from left to right as he went. He had already scoured the area for any physical evidence, clothes, hair, footprints, anything that may point at some type of presence, but he had found nothing. The fact that he really had something better to do then play find the needle in the haystack was not helping his efforts. 

He thought of Thomas, and how he was getting on at Minho's stag night. He worried about the encounter he would have with his father, and Newt wondered how his own dad was coping with the situation. His old man was no doubt surprising the younger with his drinking capabilities. Newt smiled at the idea before scolding himself. He was half way down the alley and hadn't paid a blind bit of notice to what he was looking at. He turned round to start again from the front. It was nearing eleven, and with no partner to help him, he would have to take the evidence back to the lab and process it himself. He had already written off making it back to the stag, though at the rate he was going, he was starting to fear he wouldn't get any sleep at all that night. 

Starting from the alley's entrance again, he slowly started to walk forward, scanning as he went. He had gotten a few feet when he heard a soft shuffling sound behind him. Turning quickly, he flashed his blue light upon the fidgeting figure of the police officer, who was beginning to hop from one foot to the other in a ridiculous fashion.

"You okay mate?" He asked the dancing figure. The moon was bright in the sky and cast the man's moving shadow onto the road, making an amusing dark puppet against the ground. The alley was blocked off with police tape, Newt ducked underneath it so he could face the policeman. He was middle-aged and slightly over weight, with two chins and a proud beer gut that his shirt was tucked in around. 

"I'm bursting for a piss... mind if I go here?"

Newt sighed as he shook his head. "Not on my crime scene you don't. I think there's a diner a little way down there." He pointed down the road where a lonely building sat, the car park outside was empty, but the lights inside suggested that they were still open for business. "You can grab me a coffee whilst you're there, my hands are slowly going numb."

"You sure?" He questioned, eyeing the dark surrounding area as he subconsciously pulled at his crotch.

"Just go, you're putting me off my work." Newt insisted, redirecting his torch back down the alley he continued his work, making it clear there was nothing else to be said on the matter. He heard a gratifying thanks from the desperate man and quick footsteps getting quieter as they got further away. He jogged on the spot himself for a bit to get his body temperature up and resumed his search from half way down. Just a few steps further was when he glanced it. Under the skip on its far side, a puddle of blue sat illuminated under his torch's beam. He had struck blood, and a lot by the look of it. 

He glanced back behind him as a stray car drove past. He waited until he couldn't hear it anymore before making his way round to the back of the skip. On his hands and knees, the stench hit him full in the face. He backed off slightly, holding a gloved hand to his nose as he shone his torch again at the wet patch. Tucked behind the back was a carrier bag he had not seen on his first scout, hidden in the shadows of the darkness. Holding his breath, he quickly pulled it out into the open, where the bag split and oozed stale blood across the floor. Newt stood up quickly to avoid it, stepping around to let the red liquid trickle past him until it eventually stopped. 

The bag sat drenched on the floor where it had emptied its liquids, but Newt could make out a dark shape still at the bottom of the carrier. He knelt at the edge of the blood puddle, and carefully retrieved the contents. His stomach churned as he looked at what he guessed was the large intestine that was in his hand. It was meaty under his touch, and rotten, the stench was unbearable and he wretched in response. He dropped the organ, it hit the ground with a splat, sending a spray of blood over his jeans. A horrible thought occurred to him, as he looked at what he found, and where he found it.

_This was planted. I was meant to find this._

That was when he saw the plain piece of white card that was poking out of the bag. His heart beat was rapid as he plucked and unfolded it with trembling fingers; his eyes widened to their limits as he read the written message. 

**_Newt - Time's up._ **

He dropped the card, blood rushed into his head as he realised what was happening. There had been no incident, he had been set up, lured out to this deserted alley on the outskirts of town, and with his guard taking a leak, he was alone. But he knew, he wasn't really alone. He went to move when he heard the footsteps behind him, but it was too late. Pain flared at the back of his skull from a hard blow, before he was charged into the brick wall in front by his attacker. He puts his hands forward to protect his face, but his elbows buckled under the force and his cheek slammed into the hard surface.

He went to scream when a sack was pulled over his head, he felt it tie tightly around his neck, making breathing almost impossible in his state of panic. He continued to yell from behind the rough material, fighting against the strong hands that held him. He prayed his guard would be making his way back and would hear his muffled screams as he wrestled to free himself, but it became harder and harder as he used up the little oxygen he had. Soon enough, his assailant must have grown bored with his resistance. A rough hand found his hair through the sack and pulled it back hard, Newt had little time to think before he was thrown forward. His head crashed against the brick wall, causing severe pain to rush through his skull, and then his world faded to black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider Newt's POV at the end a separate chapter if you will, I just needed to get the ball rolling in this chapter. Plus, you all love it when it ends like that... right?


	17. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am mega mega sorry to all of my readers for just how slow I am being with this. I've just been so busy with one thing and another, and free time where I actually feel that I can write is like gold dust at the moment. I appreciate you guys are eager to carry on reading, and I really love the amazing comments this story has been receiving. I love you all.
> 
> A humongous apology to all of you reading my 'BecauseMusicInspires'. I have not given up on it, but it is on hold until I complete this story, I just can't focus on both, one is hard enough :/ 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, enjoy the ride. xxx

The harsh sound of wood on metal unleashed a searing pain through his head that had been subdued during his sweet hours of sleep. Thomas jolted at the sudden audio onslaught, writhing in a medley of shock, pain and confusion. He blinked heavily, creasing his face into a frown as the morning light flooded in, burning his eyes. A rampant headache pulsated around his cranium, and his throat felt sore and closed, severely dehydrated from the alcohol he had consumed the night before. He groaned as he clutched his head, fisting a handful of thick brown hair in a futile attempt to dislodge the discomfort. His bed felt unusually uncomfortable, as he tossed from one side to the other, trying to escape the loud noises. It wasn't until he rolled over and crashed unceremoniously on his living room floor, that he realised he had spent the night cramped awkwardly on the sofa.

He looked up to find Mrs Newton stood over him, a saucepan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, with an unimpressed look on her face. Her husband stood sheepishly behind her, his eyes bloodshot and half open, he clutched the mug of coffee in his hands as if his life depended on it. They were both in their dressing gowns, one in pink, one in blue, the former looking much more sprightly than the latter.

"Good morning Thomas." Hannah greeted him curtly, leering down at him. "Did we have a good time last night?"

He clambered his way back onto his temporary bed, slowly taking in the room now it had stopped spinning and his eyes had finally focused. His body ached from sleeping awkwardly, and his stomach churned at the smell of pancake batter and melting chocolate. He spotted the day's groom splayed over the armchair; his legs dangled over one arm, whilst his head hung loosely over the other. Thomas couldn't believe how Minho could possibly sleep through Hannah's makeshift alarm, though with his friend's loud snoring, Thomas was amazed he had been able to get any sleep at all himself.

"What time is it?" He slurred, his voice croaky and baked dry.

"Nine." Came the short reply. "Two hours before you two need to be at the registry office." She wagged a finger between him and his sleeping friend. "Get him up, and get yourselves washed and dressed. There's coffee in the pot, and pancakes on their way."

Thomas grimaced at the thought. "Not hungry." His memory of the stag night was patchy at best, but he remembered old friends, an endless amount of shots, and a suspicious tasting kebab on the way home that had not agreed with him.  

"Eat or don't eat, its up to you." She muttered as she re-positioned herself directly above Minho, holding her saucepan next to his still slumbering head. 

"Go easy on them dear. They're still young." Issac had retrieved a fresh coffee from the kitchen; Thomas accepted it gratefully. He sipped at the hot liquid, sighing as his parched throat came alive as it bathed in the beverage. Mr Newton received a reprimanding look from his wife.

"Yes they are." She agreed. "I wonder what you excuse could be? Not youth that's for sure." The wooden spoon hit its metal counterpart with such sudden force, Thomas nearly dropped his mug. Minho shrieked as he jumped from the seat, with limbs flailing, he fell to the floor with an oomph. Thomas laughed, thinking it was much more fun to watch then be on the receiving end, though his head still thumped painfully.

"What's going on?" Minho's confused face popped up from behind the coffee table. Hannah smacked him on the head with her wooden spoon, eliciting another yelp from the man. 

"You're getting married. Come on, up! Don't expect any help or sympathy from me, you did this to yourselves."

Mrs Newton may put on a defiant front, but Thomas saw the suits hanging readily ironed on the door, the rings for him to take charge off sitting ready on the table in their box, and the stack of pancakes ready for eating. She put on a strong scolding front, but Hannah saw the young men in the house as her own, and loved them accordingly. Thomas stood and stretched as Minho was handed his own coffee, releasing all of the stored tension in his muscles that had built up overnight.

"I'm gonna check in with Newt, seeing as I apparently didn't quite make it to bed last night." He had missed his blonde's companionship the night before. It had surprised him how much of a good time he had had, even with his father's cruel japes, but enjoying himself so much without Newt just made him miss his boyfriend more. He left Minho to gather himself up from the floor, only to be stopped in his tracks by another wagging finger.

"No you don't mister." Hannah was a short, but formidable woman when she wanted to be, something her taller husband knew all too well as he skulked Minho through to the kitchen for breakfast. Thomas scratched his head, giving the woman a confused expression.

"Huh? What's wrong now?"

She stood with her hands on her hips, still clutching to the saucepan and spoon threateningly. Thomas was a full head higher than her, but he felt efficiently obliged to remain rooted to the spot.

"I stayed up until two in the morning for someone - anyone to come home, I gave up after then. Newt must have been working all night, in fact I'd bet he came back after you rowdy bunch did, and snuck through into bed whilst you obliviously snored the booze off. That boy always works too hard, and those people he works for take full advantage for that. Now I'm not having you charging in there waking him up, you have a duty today, you need to be at the church first, he does not. Your suit is hanging up there, so get showered, dressed and eat."

Thomas was left moving his mouth soundlessly, at a complete loss of words. He had always lived an independent life, he wasn't used to being told what to do by a motherly figure. In the end his eyes buckled under her gaze as he submitted to her orders.

"Yes ma'am." He mock saluted her, feeling better when a small smile made its way onto her strict face. He really wanted to catch up with his boyfriend, but he figured it could wait another thirty minutes, it wasn't like Newt was going anywhere. 

As he showered he contemplated the day ahead. His father had already made it quite clear that neither he nor Newt would be welcome at the wedding. The notion made him sad, but his father was just one man. In truth he was curious to meet his mother, almost anxious to do so, he never felt the same hatred from her that his dad had so easily lashed down on him. He couldn't wait to see his sister dressed in her bridal gown. He wondered how she was feeling, Minho was carrying on as if it was just another day, but he heard the apprehension in her voice on the phone, the fear that something would go wrong. 

Drying himself after his shower, he quickly popped a pair of painkillers, before changing into his suit in the guest bedroom; leaving room in the bathroom for the groom to prepare. Once dressed, he admired himself in a full-length mirror, and he had to admit, he looked good. The suit was tailored to his size, and fitted him perfectly. It was of a dark sapphire blue that stood well with his dark brown hair, and the bright orange tie reflected in his deep brown eyes. He took time making sure everything was just so, smoothing his jacket out, polishing his jet black shoes, and working his hair smartly. He couldn't wait to stand next to Newt. In matching suits, they would stand out as a couple, much to the joyful dismay of his parents.

He returned to the kitchen to admiring gushes from Mrs Newton. She was already dressed in a smart peach suit jacket and skirt, her hair tied up in an elegant feathered bun and pearls glimmered on both her ears and neck. Her husband had avoided colour completely, dressed in a simply grey suit with tweed waistcoat, he dressed plain but suitably for his age. 

"Thomas!" Hannah yelped as she looked at him. He immediately felt exposed and on show as Issac peered from behind his newspaper and Minho exited the bathroom in just a white shirt and his undies. The woman took him by the hands, pulling him into the middle of the room. "So handsome, you do scrub up well for a hungover best man." She smoothed his jacket over his shoulders, brushing off dust that was invisible to everyone's eyes but hers. 

"Thank you Ma'am." He said numbly, feeling not entirely comfortable under the adoring scrutiny. He wasn't used to being made a fuss off, not by anyone who wasn't either his sister or his boyfriend. "You look very nice too." He said after a moment.

Newt's mother battered away his compliment, though Thomas could have sworn her cheeks grew a shade pinker. He heard a throat being cleared behind him, and he turned to find Minho waiting expectantly, still only half dressed. 

"Here, look after these." He placed a small red box in Thomas hands. Open as it was, he could see two elegant matching silver rings inside. One was a simple band, shining wonderfully in the morning sun, with a thin line of blue running through the middle of its circumference. The other was the same, except slightly smaller and more delicate. It was topped with a single sapphire rock, a brilliant gem encased in silver. Thomas nodded, closing the box and tucking it safely into his inside pocket. Once he had presented them at the ceremony, his only main task left would be his speech; after that, he could relax and get thoroughly wasted. Again. 

"It's all starting to feel a bit real now huh?" He rose his eyebrows as Minho shrugged in response. "Not nervous?"

"Course I'm nervous." His friend replied quietly. "But in a good way. I can't wait to see her. Your sister... she's beautiful you know that?"

Thomas laughed. "I'm not blind Minho, you're a very lucky man. 

"What if I screw things up? What if we get six months in and I can't make her happy? I know I rushed this because of the baby, but... what if-"

"You will be fine." Thomas interrupted, squeezing his friend on the shoulder. "Wanna know why? Because if things go wrong, you'll have me to answer to. Capiche?"

Minho nodded solemnly, far more serious than Thomas could ever remember seeing him. He was glad to find his friend was nervous. Anyone who wasn't nervous before their wedding wasn't human. "Good that. I should get ready."

"Yeah, we leave in twenty minutes, hurry your ass up."

He watched Minho return to the guest bedroom, what had now become the house's changing room with the main bedroom out of commission. He checked his watch again, it would not be long before they left for the registry. Except for the groom himself, everyone was ready and dressed, and he was surprised that Newt had not stirred. The blonde would usually be first up and ready to go; Thomas hoped he was not feeling overly apprehensive about the day ahead. 

"Newt?" He asked quietly as he entered their bedroom, padding over to the bed to shake the covered shape in the middle of the bed. The duvet collapsed under his touch, revealing nothing more than an empty bed. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Newt?" He called louder, making his way to their attached bathroom, calling for him again before he entered. The adjoining room was just as empty. Confused, he retraced his steps back downstairs.

"You seen Newt come down at all?" He asked the parents as he entered the living area. Hannah was ironing Minho's suit jacket whilst her husband tackled the daily crossword in his newspaper. "He's not upstairs."

Newt's mother stopped her ironing, giving him a curious look. "No dear, he hasn't come down. You sure he's not upstairs?" 

Thomas shook his head, ignoring the ridiculous question as he dialed Newt's number on his phone. He growled at the sound of the answer machine, the same annoying sound he had heard the night before. "Surely he wouldn't have worked  _all_ night - not without contacting me at least. Where is he? Why isn't he answering his phone? Why isn't he here?"

His barrage of question was cut short by Hannah, who quietened him with a gentle touch on his elbow as she walked past with Minho's ironed jacket; hanging it on the door frame. "Don't worry Thomas, he probably fell asleep at work and didn't think to call. Or maybe he snuck out early to get something and hasn't come back yet, that's all."

"What's up?" Minho bounced down the stairs, fully dressed aside from his jacket, he looked devilishly smart. Not wanting to match with Thomas or Newt, he had opted for a classic grey suit with tails, his black shoes even shinier than Thomas' own. 

"Newt's missing." Thomas replied curtly.

"What? What do you mean missing?" Minho replied with a look of utter disbelief. Mrs Newton sighed heavily, gaining their attention. "Thomas will you stop over-reacting, its your friend's wedding day. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation why Newt isn't here, now are you two ready?"

Thomas shook his head defiantly, "I'm not ready until I've seen Newt. He should be here, and he's not."

His friend nudged him on his back with a fist. "We gotta go dude. Sorry, you'll have to wait to see blondie. He's probably gone out to get something."

"That's what I said." Hannah chimed in agreement.

"To get what exactly?" Thomas huffed, exasperated. He knew something was wrong, and he couldn't understand how no-one else could see it, least of all Newt's own mother. Perhaps they were so swept up with the whole wedding fiasco, they could no longer see the woods from the trees. He knew Newt, more than anyone. He would not disappear like this without letting Thomas know where to. He wouldn't stay at work for this long without calling.  _Maybe his phone ran out of battery. No, Newt would find a way, there'd be computers at the lab, he would have e-mailed me._ Thomas quickly checked his mail on his phone, letting out a disappointed grunt at his empty inbox. 

He ran upstairs, double checking the first floor rapidly for any sign of the blonde's presence. He rummaged through the wardrobe, not able to locate the uniform Newt left in the night before. "If he had come back, his uniform would be here. But its not. Why isn't it here? Why isn't he here?" He began to feel desperate as he spoke to himself, a dreadful sense of knowing sinking in. He raided the drawers on Newt's side of the bed, looking for any proof that the man had been here during the night: his phone, his wallet, keys, anything. They were all gone. "He didn't come home last night."

"Then he must have stayed at work, or at a colleagues." He hadn't heard Minho come up after him, and his voice made him jump slightly.

"Why would he go somewhere else, and not come back home?"

"Because wherever he is now was closer?"

"Why hasn't he called then?"

"I don't know Thomas okay? Ran out of battery, lost it, decided he wouldn't need to bother you. I'm not telepathic."

"Minho will you shut u-"

The doorbell rang, making them both look immediately towards the stairs. Minho turned and shrugged at him. "See? Must have forgotten his keys."

Thomas bounded downstairs, coming up just behind Hannah as she gave him a knowing look. She opened the front door, opening her mouth to welcome her son back, before stopping in her tracks. As her words failed, Thomas' heart broke. Standing in the doorway was a middle aged woman, with grey hair tied sharp into a bun, and framed spectacles on the end of her nose. Behind her stood a tall, broad, and silent policeman, dressing all in uniform. His walkie talkie buzzed with static noise momentarily before going quiet again. 

The woman took in the crowd at the door as Minho and Issac joined at the rear, taking in each of their faces. She stopped as she looked at Thomas, and he saw the strain in her eyes, the strain of worry, and despair. 

"Thomas? My name is Ava."

He knew who she was before she spoke her name. Newt had often talked about his boss, how he admired her diligence and knowledge in her field, of what a great leader she was, a source of encouragement and support. But right now, he saw a woman who had been shaken to her core, who had lost control, and was struggling to stay strong. It was then that he knew for sure.

"What's happened?" He demanded, his voice cracking under the strain. "What's happened to Newt!?"

* * *

Newt forced himself to remain as calm as he possibly could, knowing panicking would do him no favours. He had regained consciousness, but his world remained black under the tight sack that was still bound over his head. His air supply was constant, but strained, and his lungs burned for clean fresh air. His hands had been bound behind his back, and a rope gag cut into his mouth, scraping against his lips every time the vehicle lurched over a bump in the road. His legs were free, but he had no room in which to move them. His muscles screamed at the lack of space and movement, and his nostrils flared as he took long deep snorts of oxygen to stay awake. He guessed he was in the boot of a car, and his only hope for an idea of what direction they were heading in was via the swift turns the car took on its route. However, by the time he regained consciousness first time round, they were already moving, and he had no sense of time or location in the dark cavity at the back of the car. 

He wanted to cry, not out of fear, but out of failure. He should have seen this coming, he should have been more careful, he had been for so long, and the moment he let his guard down was the moment too late. He had lost consciousness from his head injury several times since being taken, and he had no concept of time. He didn't know if he was supposed to be in bed, making breakfast, getting dressed, or watching Minho and Teresa take their wedding vows. Regardless of all that, he should have been with Thomas right then, instead of bound and gagged on a road to who knew where. 

His forehead felt wet with sweat, and he could also smell blood. He had hit the brick wall hard, he remembered the pain before blacking out, and his head still pounded angrily from the impact. His weak leg screamed at him to be stretched and moved about, but he had no where to move it to. All he could do was lie still, and suffer. He whimpered weakly when the pain got too much, ashamed at himself for his own weakness, and then he would return to blissful blackness. Soon he gave up completely on guessing where he could be, he had lost all sense of time and direction. He could have been travelling for ten minutes, or ten hours, he really couldn't say, but whatever it was, it was filled with agony. 

Once the car had stopped, and Newt had heard the tell tale sounds of refueling. Guessing and hoping they were at a gas station, and some bystander would be nearby, he screamed as loud as he could around the gag, yelling for help as loudly as he muster. His lungs screamed as much as he did as he expelled what little oxygen they had in them. The rope bit into the sides of his mouth, but he kept yelling until his dry throat made his voice grow hoarse. Despite his efforts, no-one heard, no-one except his captor. Maybe someone else did hear, and they had been scared off, he would never know. All he knew was the punishment for his attempt to be heard, to be saved.

The sunlight flooded his compartment when the boot was opened, blinding him even through his canvas mask; he never got a look at his captor. What he did feel was three sure and hard whacks, one to his torso, one to his head, and one to his bad leg. It felt like a baseball bat, a metal one. The hit to his body struck him fiercely, the one to his head made his skull vibrate horribly. Finally, the blow to his leg made him howl like a wounded dog, and then he passed out once more. 

It was still dark when he came to. He rolled around to feel the space he was in, only to meet the same confines that could only be the boot of the car. His body ached, his ribs were sore and his skull pulsated. He cried quietly, the pain too much to take, pain that had gone on for too long, and was a long way off from leaving him. He found it a struggle to move his leg, it spasmed when he tried, causing him to gasp and give up. He closed his eyes, trying to regain control of himself, sobbing was making it even more difficult for him to breathe, and he could not afford to choke on his own saliva. He calmed himself by picturing Thomas, imagining him in his wedding suit, handsome and smiling, his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischievousness. Would he ever see him again? He couldn't say.  _I'm sorry Tommy..._

Suddenly the car slowed down, Newt blinked his eyes back open, focusing on the cars speed and gear changes, anything to keep his mind off the pain. The vehicle cruised as it slowed down, and his whole world shifted as it jolted to a stop. He heard a door open and slam shut again, footsteps crunching atop gravel, closer and closer to where he lay. Then light invaded his world again, a light so bright he thought the sun had crashed with the Earth. For a moment he wondered what he looked like to his captor, beaten and bloodied he supposed; a goddamn mess. A pair of hands roughly grabbed him by his shirt, and dragged him out, letting him fall onto hard ground. Pain again, but he kept his voice inside, he would not let his kidnapper benefit from his suffering. 

He wanted to demand answers. Why he was taken, why he was targeted, where he was, if not for information then to show that he wasn't afraid. But even if he were not gagged, his throat was drier than a desert, and breathing was enough of a trial; he did not think himself capable of voicing a sentence. The journey from the car was quick, he was hoisted up onto his feet, and dragged along rocky ground. He had to walk fast to keep up, and when he stumbled a sharp jab to his stomach made him catch up again. He gritted his teeth as his leg bit at him painfully, each step hurting more than the one before. Thankfully it was not long before they stopped. He swayed in his captor's grip, feeling what little strength he had seeping away as each second passed. 

The sound of a large door being opened announced they had arrived, and he was shoved forwards into a new kind of darkness. This darkness smelt of hay, manure, and dampness. The floor beneath them was flatter, like stone slabs, the odd shuffling noise came through as they kicked through what he guessed was strewn bits of hay.  _A farm? A barn maybe? Do they keep animals here?_ Suddenly the hands holding him let go, and he was completely lost as to what was around him. He had never felt more vulnerable, as he waited for what might happen next. The noise of a hatch opening startled him, and he stepped back from the noise, only for the strong hands to find him again and pull him down. 

"Steps." Came a gruff voice. "Down."

Newt was terrified, but he understood. He tentatively stepped forward, until his toes found nothing but empty air. He lowered one foot carefully until it found the first descending step, and then slowly followed it with the other. Strong fingers curled around the back of his neck as they guided him downwards, into an even deeper darkness than before. His footsteps echoed against concrete steps, and a strong stench of decay engulfed his nostrils, making him want to throw up. He stumbled as he reached the bottom step, falling ungraciously to his knees with a yelp of pain. All he got in response was a tug at his collar, before he found himself being dragged along the floor. He no longer had the strength to stand up on his own, and so allowed himself to be unceremoniously hauled until his head bumped gently against a wall. 

His rope mouthpiece was taken off first, and he breathed in the foul stenching air in deep breaths, as if it were the sweetest thing on earth. His stomach lurched, but he forced it to settle, allowing his lungs to feed through his newly re-opened airwaves. As soon as he begun breathing normally again, he yelled as loud as he could, hoping that someone would hear him. All he got for his trouble was a hard slap around the face, making his eyes water from the shock of it.

"Don't fucking think about it. You can do this the easy way or the hard way. Be a good boy and stay quiet, and you'll get along just fine. Be a naughty boy, and you'll discover a whole new meaning for the word 'pain'."

Newt's entire body froze at the sound of the familiar voice. His heart frosted into an iceberg, and he forgot how to breathe as his skin ran cold with goosebumps. Deep down he knew, I mean who else could it be? But still, he never thought he would find himself as he was now, with the man he had tried so hard to escape from, to forget.

The sack was ripped off, pulling at his hair as it was yanked away. Newt coughed at the dust particles that settled around him, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the dim room. As he did so, his arms were unbound, and retied to an old metal radiator that he was slumped beside. He pulled his knees up to his chest, but he had no energy to fight, he knew he couldn't win, it was futile to try. When the rope was tightened around his pale wrists, trapping them against the cold radiator, he finally dared to look at the looming shadow that stood over him. The man's dark skin and black clothes made him hard to see, but his white teeth shone through a smirk, and the whites of his eyes were of those that he would never, ever forget.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. He wanted to run, and he wanted to die. But all he could do was whimper, as he sat bound and defeated on the dirty floor, in a room that stunk of decomposition, and had no windows that he could see.

"A-Alby..."

"Yes Newt. Welcome Home."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't say how this is going to go at the moment. I am undecided. Well, I have an idea for the ending, its just the path between here and there. 
> 
> By the way, believe it or not Newt IS my favourite TMR character XD


	18. The Hunt Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dark adult themes at the end of this chapter, proceed with caution.

Numbness took over Thomas as he sat and listened to Ava explain what they knew of Newt's activities before he had disappeared the night before. He sat slumped in his seat, barely able to concentrate on a single word as his mind contemplated the worst. Newt would be at the mercy of his captors, probably scared and in pain, or worse. He made himself not think of the final possibility, the idea of never seeing his blonde again threatening to push him into an unstoppable plummet into darkness and despair. He should never have let Newt go to work so late, no doubt whilst he was knocking back shots, Newt had been hurt and terrified, it made him sick to the stomach, and maddeningly angry and hateful towards everyone, including himself. 

The small sitting room which had been full of wedding morning excitement had morphed into a sullen quietness of fear, dread and uncertainty, all covered thickly in both shock, and sadness. Mrs Newton held onto her husband tightly as they sat together next to him on the settee. Her eyes were wide and vacant, staring into the same numbed abyss as he had entered into himself. Her husband was a statue of support for his wife, as he silently sat, consumed by the unknown regarding his son. Minho stood behind, as quiet as Thomas had ever known him to be. In a sickening way, Thomas felt a twinge of disdain for all of them. He had known something was wrong as soon as he found their bed empty, but they had not been able to see it. Instead they had sighed and tutted at him as if he was a crazed man. But now they saw that he was right, and it was a bitter medicine for all of them to take. 

Ava conducted herself in a professionally rehearsed manner, no doubt having stayed up all night practicing how to recite Newt's fate. She sat in the armchair rigid, holding a soiled white envelope tightly in her hands. She had asked them politely to not utter a word until she was finished, and so they stayed quiet as they listened to her tired but articulate rendition. 

"I received an emergency call in the early hours of this morning. It was the police guard that had been assigned to the crime scene that evening. As soon as the phone rang I knew something was wrong, it is rare for an investigation to be important enough to disturb me during night hours, unless it was related to one of our own."

She swallowed thickly in between sentences, her voice wavering slightly as she ended each one. Newt often spoke about his team like a family. _When you see the things we see, and do the thing we do, you soon learn that you need each other to get through the worst of it._ Thomas knew the strength of the connection, and that the Newtons were not the only ones who felt the loss of a son that day.

"Issac and his colleague Dominic were the team assigned to the scene. It had not been brought to my attention until that phone call that Dominic had not shown up for duty." Ava continued on in a more irksome tone. She was obviously not impressed at all, and Thomas thought he would like to have a few words with this Dominic himself. "The assigned guard stated that late on in the evening he had an urgent call from mother nature, and after requesting a break from Issac, he left the scene for a diner a short distance down the road. By the time he returned, Issac was nowhere to be seen. He searched the scene, contacting me when there was no sign of Issac at all."

Thomas leant forward, resting his head in his hands as he stared at the woman who had taken to wiping her glasses. "So he was left alone? In the middle of the night, in a dark alley, in a strange area, he was left alone?" He stood, unable to sit still any longer, his building rage at the situation rippling through him. "Am I to understand my boyfriend was taken because his guard couldn't piss up against a wall?"

"The circumstances were unfortunate, ludicrous even, I don't deny that. Regardless, Issac should not have been left alone. I will run a full investigation on the matter, but our main concern at the moment must be on locating Issac."

"Yes, we wouldn't want the public finding out about your mishap just yet now would we?" Thomas spat sharply. Ava opened her mouth to retaliate, but was stopped by Mrs Newton.

"I'm sorry, but can I ask how you know my son was physically taken?" Hannah's voice was shaky and timid as she clutched onto her paralytic husband. "Could he not just be lost somewhere? Or -" Her words died in her throat, knowing how ridiculous she was sounding as she could no longer think up any other alternatives. Ava shook her head gravely.

"There was evidence of a struggle in the alley. We... we  found traces of blood on the wall, DNA test confirmed it to be Issac's. As well as that we located sporadic scuffle marks and a trail of a body being dragged that ended at the road. We can only assume he was bundled into a vehicle at that point before being driven off. We are still investigating for any further evidence that could help us narrow our search."

Thomas shook his head angrily. "Narrow your search from what? The world? What can you possibly expect to find?"

"Tyre tracks, car paint... any type of DNA that can help us narrow down the possibilities. We've put all nearby airports and train stations on alert, and any physical evidence we can match to a vehicle could help us trace his captors via the CCTV network." Thomas sat back down, understanding and a small glimmer of hope calming him down slightly. "There was also this..." Ava gingerly offered out the envelope she still held in her hands; Thomas reached out and took it. He turned it in his hands before opening it, his eyes widening as he read the message aloud.

"Newt, time's up." He scrunched the paper into a ball in a tight fist, his hand trembling as he did. "Alby... that son of a bitch, if he's laid so much as a finger on him."

Minho's hands pressed firmly down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit still. "Hey man, it might not be."

"Don't be stupid Minho. Who else could it be? I thought the messages had stopped, guess I was wrong."

He felt the room all turn to stare at him, all except for Ava, who kept her eyes firmly planted at the ground. "What messages?" Mr Newton asked gruffly. "What are you talking about?"

He didn't know where to begin. How could he explain to Newt's parents that their son had been receiving threatening messages, each with their own decaying body piece? He had thought they had stopped, Newt hadn't mentioned anything for at least two weeks. He looked down as he explained the whole story, not wanting to look into either of the parent's desperately sad eyes. Once he had finished, he braced himself for the reaction, but none did; not from them at least. Minho however, delivered a sharp smack to the back of his head, causing him to yelp.

"Why didn't you tell any of us man? We could have helped you!"

"How?" Thomas recovered. "How could anyone have helped? Besides, Newt didn't want anyone to know." He looked at Ava knowingly. "But I guess, in the end, he didn't want even me knowing huh?"

She nodded. "Newt continued to receive parcels sent direct to him at work. He didn't want you involved any more than you needed to be, and so only spoke to me about them. I investigated quietly on the side, including Alby's activities, but drew up nothing. In the end, the trail grew quiet; until last night." 

Thomas sunk lower into his seat as he battled to keep his eyes dry. Newt had protected him from becoming too involved, and now he was all alone somewhere paying the price whilst he sat in his home dressed in a stupid suit. "What do we do now?" He had to find Newt, he had to bring him home safe. 

" _We_ do nothing." Ava's eyes flashed at him. "I have a warrant to search the premises where Alby is staying, I will take a team of police officers and search the place thoroughly, and will contact you with any updates. I have your number from Newt's file, you are his emergency contact."

"Do nothing?" Thomas repeated the words. "You expect me to sit here and do nothing? I'm coming with you!"

He stood up to follow, only for the uniformed policeman to stand in his way. Ava spoke from behind him, hidden behind his tall stature. "No. This is a police investigation, and you are no officer. I promise, any news, and I will not hesitate to call you, but in the mean time there is nothing you can do. Besides, judging from your garb, I can only assume you have a wedding to go to?"

Thomas hung his head sadly. "I don't want to go without Newt. He's my partner."

Minho surprised him with a bear hug. "I know man. But you are my best man, I need you today."

"Newt needs me. Now more than ever, I can't abandon him! I won't!" He tore away, tearing off his tie as he stomped over to the front door. He didn't care if it was childish, or stroppy, but he stood in front of it with his arms angrily folded across his chest. "I'm going with Ava, and that's that."

No-one moved for a moment, all stunned by his performance. Finally, Hannah gently picked up his discarded tie and walked over to him, gently placing it in his jacket pocket. She slowly took his hands into her own with a sad but proud smile. "Thank you Thomas. I mean it, I know you love my son very much, and would do anything for him." She cupped his cheek with one hand. "But this is something you can't do. How do you think he would feel, if he knew you ditched your own sister's wedding hm? Trust the police to do their job, they will bring him back to you." 

"But I c-can't." His voice cracked as he gave up on his stone front. "I can't face my sister, or my parents alone, not now. I need him Hannah... I-" He broke down in her arms, letting go of all his pent up emotions. 

"Yes you can Thomas." She pulled back to look at him, tears slowly tracing their way from her bright eyes and down her cheeks. "Be strong. Your sister and your friend need you today. Besides, you can't help the police, it's better for you to be out doing something than wallowing here on your own."

"I'll be a crappy best man." He murmured.

"I wouldn't expect anything else." Minho called as he came over, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look, as long as you're my best man, I don't care how you play it. But Hannah's right, it's better than staying here all day. What do you say?"

Thomas sighed heavily and closed his eyes as he let the last stray tears escape. What else could he say? They were right, Ava wouldn't let him join her even if he begged her, and the thought of moping at home on his own all day did not appeal to him anymore than the wedding itself. "Okay, but where do we say Newt is? Teresa  _will_ notice if one of her child's godfathers is not there."

The answer came from Ava as she made her way past to take her leave. "Sickness. Call it a twelve hour bug. He can't come now, but say he hopes to make it for the reception. It will buy you some time at least."

"I dunno..." Minho murmured, shuffling his feet. "I don't feel right lying to my wife on her wedding day."

"When do you go on honeymoon?" Thomas asked, though he was sure he knew the answer.

"Flight is tomorrow lunch time, were booked in to a hotel near the airport for tonight. Why?" His friend questioned in response.

"Don't tell her. The sickness is believable, and by the time you guys come back home, Newt will be back. Won't he?" He pointed the question to Newt's boss. She nodded curtly in response. 

"It's not in my nature to make promises, I teach my employees not to. But Thomas, I promise you I will find him, and get him back home safely." With that she left, swiftly followed by her companion. Thomas closed the door behind them, his feet still itching to take him tearing after them, but he glued them where they stood. Instead he took a deep breath, and let out a thunderous scream as he pounded the door with his fist, making everyone around him jump. 

"Thomas..." Minho spoke quietly. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. What's happened is horrible, and I completely understand if you don't want to be there today."

He kept his throbbing hand flush against the door as he turned around. There he saw Minho looking at him with deep concern as he stood kitted out in his wedding clothes. 

"You're right Minho, I don't feel like going. But I promised to be your best man." He took his orange tie from where Hannah had placed it, and commenced putting it back on. "So lets get this wedding on the road. 

* * *

Newt pulled as hard as he could, straining against the rope as he pushed his feet against the radiator, willing for his restraints to give way. His shoulders hurt from the effort, and his wrists stung as the rope bit into them; the more he pulled, the tighter the knot seemed to get. But he had to keep pulling. Not long before, he had heard Alby talking to someone upstairs; hoping it would be the owner of the farm, he had yelled as loud as he could. Not long after, Alby had descended. There had been no-one else upstairs, he had been speaking to someone over the phone, and they had not heard his pleas for help. 

As punishment for his attempt to raise an alarm, Alby had turned on the radiator to its highest temperature setting. Newt had to pull with all his might to keep his hands from touching the burning metal, any moment he relented, his skin would make contact, and send scorching pain up into his brain as the flesh would burn. He didn't know how long he had been left in that state, an hour perhaps, and Alby had still not returned. Parts of his hands had begun to blister where they had made contact with the scolding furnace, and his whole body was soaked in sweat from both the heat and his efforts to keep what little distance he could between himself and the radiator. 

The room was lighter than what is was, a small square window near the top of his wall let in a tiny amount of light, just enough so he was no longer sat in complete darkness. He had not used the daylight to observe the room in any greater detail, too focused was he on keeping his skin in tact to pay it any attention. The stench was unbearable. He had glanced a black bag a bit down from where he sat on his left side as his back faced the room. The smell from it made him want to heave. It had reminded him of rotten corpses, and when Alby happily showed him the contents, he had emptied his stomach where he sat. Alby may have shipped off most of Gally, but what was left he still kept inside that bag. Layered on top of that, was his own personal slop bucket. It was a trial in itself to get himself over the bucket to relieve himself being tied the way he was, and sometimes he would miss, and piss on the floor instead. A pig rolling in his own shit, that's what he saw himself as now, and it shamed him no end. 

He jolted when the hatch lifted loudly, and he had to clench down on his tongue to stop himself from yelling when his hand met the radiator. He pulled it away quickly, pushing down on his feet as hard as he could. He had to keep quiet, he feared what Alby might have in store for him next if he wasn't. His captor descended the steps with heavy stomps  that echoed coldly through the dungeon.

"Good morning Newt, feeling warm enough?" Alby commented with an evil chuckle. He grabbed a broom from the corner of the room. and went about sweeping around Newt, cleaning up whatever mess he had made since he left. Newt lowered his head, wishing that he could just die to save himself from the embarrassment and degradation. Once swept, a wet sponge was put to the floor. For a moment Newt wondered why Alby felt the need to clean up like he was, but it soon became unbearably apparent once Alby sat down close to him. 

"Lets turn this off shall we? I gather you've learnt your lesson?" Alby inquired with a raised eyebrow. Newt simply nodded in response, his whole body shaking. "Good." Once the radiator was off, and had turned cold again, Newt turned around as best he could and relaxed against the now cold metal. Alby leaned in next to him, Newt could feel the man's breath on his neck; it made him want to heave more than the bag of Gally's remnants. 

"Do I get a good morning kiss Newt?" Alby asked as he planted his cold lips on Newt's cheek. Newt couldn't help but shiver at the unwanted contact. He turned his face away only to have it wrenched back as Alby gripped his face painfully in one hand. "Are you going to make me ask again?" Scared of what the outcome would be if he did, Newt shook his head. The next thing he knew, Alby's tongue was in his mouth, a wet slug invading him. He kept stoic, closing his eyes tightly. He pictured Thomas, trying to wipe Alby from his mind entirely, but the smell, and the touch, and the taste were all too real. Alby hummed in a satisfied way as he broke the kiss, his eyes burning into Newt as he stared at him. 

"You taste good Newt, so good. I've missed you so much. I know I hurt you, but you must understand, you belong to me, no-one else." He stroked Newt's cheek with callous fingers, "Understand?" Newt nodded, utterly defeated. He wished Thomas was there with him instead of Alby. He wished he was back home. He felt he was betraying Thomas by letting Alby take advantage of him, but he just couldn't take the punishments anymore. 

"Good. See its not so bad if you behave yourself. Now, let's get those jeans off shall we?"

"What?" Newt let the question come out without thinking, totally shocked by the sudden advance. A hard slap reminded him of his mistake. 

"Do I have to repeat myself? Remember, it won't be so bad if you behave yourself. I've missed you so much Newt, I want you so much, and its been _so_ long. Surely you won't deny me now will you?" Alby pushed Newt's hands to the top of the radiator, and re-tightened the knot there. Newt closed his eyes as Alby removed his shoes, and then his jeans. 

"Newt, I want to look into your eyes, open them, and keep them open."

He did as he was bid, but he still couldn't see through the tears that swam in his eyes. "Alby, p-please, please don't do this."

"Shhhhh." Alby held a finger to his lips, silencing him. He wanted to bite the finger off so badly his body trembled, but he made himself sit still. "Newt, I love you, and it hurts me so much that you were with that Thomas." He spat on the ground. "But now you're here, with me. Don't you see? We can be together, at last. I've wanted this for so long." Alby ran his hands through Newt's hair as he straddled him against the radiator. "Now, our farmer is out on business, so you can moan as loudly as you want to, I won't punish you."

Newt refused to moan. No matter how painful it got, he would not give Alby the satisfaction. He cried, quietly letting tears spill over his face, but he kept them open, putting as much hatred into them as he could. If Alby saw, he didn't notice. His savage grunts and moans echoed against the walls as he thrust rough and hard, making Newt wince in pain. Again he pictured Thomas, imagined his Tommy kissing away the pain, loving him the way a lover should. It helped a little, but the pain still hurt. He had never truly enjoyed sex with Alby, not like he did with Thomas. His brunette was gentler, softer, but reached deeper and made Newt feel things no-one else could. He recalled those memories, using them as his defence against the heinous crime he was being subjected to. And he wished, he wished to be back home.

* * *

 Ava rang the bell for the third time, still with no answer. Frustration fueled her as she peeped into the front window, only to find an empty room. It was nearing lunch time, and she had expected to find the farm owner at home for lunch, but it seemed she was out of luck. Perhaps he was out in his fields somewhere? She looked round, scouting the surrounding area. It was a large farm, separate from the farmhouse was a barn which was in dire need of a lick of paint, several paddocks and stables, pig sties and cow pens. The surrounding fields were all part of the land, crops of wheat, barley, rye, flour, corn and cabbages went on for acres. Woodland also covered parts of the land, and wild meadows and rivers, all under the ownership of the farm's proprietor. 

She turned back to her team of seven armed officers, her gut instinct told her this was where she would find Newt, and where she could also find a very hostile Alby. When it came to raids, strength was in numbers. 

"Okay Phillips with me, the rest of you split up into pairs and search the outside premises. If you find any signs of life buzz me on the radio, and we can begin searching inside with our warrant. Stick together, the suspect has been known to be dangerous in the past. Aim to find the farmer first, Mr. Tyesdon." 

"You think anyone's here?" Phillips whispered to her as he separated from the group to join her. "He might not have come back here."

"He knows that we know he's here. If he went anywhere else, that would be reason enough to suspect him. We search now, and then we wait. I'm not leaving until I speak to someone. We are finding Newt today, failure is not an option."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the terrible things I'm doing. Truly, Deeply, Sorry.


	19. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've discovered I'm a winter writer. The summer holds too much sunshine and outdoorsiness (new word by the way) for me to sit inside typing away. As a result, this chapter took a ridiculously long time, and I am sorry once more.
> 
> Love you guys :3

For all the woes and worries that flooded his mind, Thomas found himself stunned with beaming pride as he watched his sister from the front of the altar. The small chapel itself stood as part of a grand hotel that overlooked peaceful grounds from atop a gentle mound. The room of matrimony stood at the edge of the building, where its' large glass windows looked out onto an expansive tranquil lake. The weather gods smiled down on them; a beaming full sun stood proud in the sky, unmarred by any blemishes of cloud - not even a wisp. It's rays penetrated the chapel gloriously, lighting the room up in a wondrous radiance.

Despite their absence, Minho's parent's left no expense spared when it came to celebrating their son's marriage. Though the room was small, it had high ceilings covered in beautiful murals of angels, flowers, and fantastical creatures. Golden chandeliers hung suspended from thick marble beams, each shining their multitude of real candles with pride. Bouquets of white lilies stood on marble pedestals, framing the altar at the front, as well as each window bay along the walls. A shimmering carpet of silver ran the length of the room, where the bride made her way past her loved ones towards the front. As she strode, her arm linked with her father's, a grand silver harp had its strings musically plucked by a young woman from the back, filling the room with sweet music. 

As grand as the location was, it only became a side role against his sister. Teresa stood tall in heels, with her back straight and chin high, her pretty face full of pride, and her eyes glittering with excitement. Her full length ivory dress danced as it reflected facets of light from every angle, whilst white lace sleeves and bust hugged her figure, showing off her growing pregnancy unashamedly. Her trail was long and light, flowing behind her as she made her way down the aisle, beaming from ear to ear. In all their years growing up together Teresa had never been one for dressing up. Thomas had always known his sister was pretty, but for the first time, he saw her in a new light. She was beautiful. 

He spared a look for his friend, and saw by Minho's starry-eyed look that he too had been struck hard by her presence. Thomas nudged him in the ribs with a sharp elbow before whispering in his ear.

"Remember to blink buddy. And no fainting, cause I'm not going to catch you." 

"She's an angel." Was the only reply as Minho ignored, or rather didn't hear, what he had said. Thomas just smiled in agreement as Teresa met them at the front. She gave him a quick squeeze of the hand as she left their father, before giving up all her attention to her awaiting groom. Thomas squeezed back briefly in support. He caught the eye of his father as he turned to take his seat. He ignored the cold, dead gaze he was given, and sat down next to Ben in the front bench, whilst Mr Greene took his spot next to his wife. So far, Thomas had suffered a swift greeting from his mother, a forced peck on the cheek that had made him feel nothing. He sensed her watching him from across the aisle, but he could not bring himself to look back. Whilst he felt anger and hatred towards the man who raised him, what he felt for his own mother was worse. He found that he felt nothing. 

The congregation was a small forty, made up of a select few friends and family from either side, and left even the small venue with a handful of vacant seats at the back. The couple had purposefully wanted the ceremony and dinner to be small and special, before the rest of their troops joined them for the after party. Of Minho's friends, only Ben and Fry had made the cut, though Thomas had been mortified to discover a familiar blonde among the pews.  _What? She's a good friend of mine._  Minho had bluntly explained when Thomas had question her presence.

Sonya smiled sweetly at him from one of the seats near the back. She had curled her golden hair into thick waves, and wore a strapless emerald green dress that reached as low down as her thighs. He ignored her false courtesies and focused his attention on the happy couple. With Newt missing, and both his parents and Sonya in attendance, he felt incredibly outnumbered. The Newtons sat directly behind him, both silent and solemn, but he appreciated their presence, especially for what must be a terrible time for them.

He scolded himself when he thought of Newt. He had promised himself to not think about him until Ava called him. In the mean time there was nothing he could do to help, and thinking about his blonde was futile. However, now he had let the man into his head, he could not shake him out. The man he loved had been taken from him. The man he swore to protect was somewhere alone and scared, and possibly hurt. His imagination reeled with things Alby could be doing to Newt, all of them worse than the one before. He could feel his fists curl up in his lap when he received a jab to the ribs from his right. He turned to see Ben looking at him expectantly. 

"Dude, pay attention, you're up."

He looked back up at the bride and groom. Teresa was looking at him strangely, whilst Minho was trying to communicate with him via lip-reading; Thomas couldn't understand. A tap on his shoulder from Hannah saved him, "The rings dear." She whispered into his ear. Thomas stood bolt upright, earning a smattering of subdued laughter from behind him. Feeling his face burning, he quickly retrieved the rings from his pocket, and gave them to his friend. He could see his father shake his head in his peripheral vision. Ignoring everyone's eyes, he returned to his seat, feeling incredibly hot as he tugged at his collar. 

"You okay man?" Ben inquired at his side. Thomas shushed him, waving him off with a shrug and a forced grin. He felt bad. It was the happiest day of his sister's life, and he was too deep in his own depressed thoughts to enjoy it with her. She caught his eye for a moment, as she stood facing her man, holding his hands in her own. He could see she was shaking slightly, and he gave her a beaming smile for encouragement. It seemed to work; she smiled back, before reciting her vows. 

He faded out again as they spoke, thinking of the promises he would say to Newt.  _I've already failed to protect him. I said I would keep him safe. That I would be there when he needed me most. Now I don't even know if I will ever see him again._ It hit him like a brick wall, hard in the face. Newt could be lost, forever, and he might not ever get to say goodbye. He felt his breathing quicken as his palms began to sweat. His vision blurred with tears he forced back, thankful to be able to use the wedding as an emotional excuse.  _  
_

"I do."  Teresa's quiet voice echoed through the room. The small plump woman acting as the registrar pronounced them as husband and wife. Ben leaned over to whisper as the pair shared their first kiss as a married couple. 

"I woulda bet my last dollar Minho would have fainted." He said as he joined in with the joyful applause that filled the room. "Though you look like you're about to drop yourself. Never had you down as the soppy, doting brother." 

"Shut up." He wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand, deciding to play up the 'doting brother' character. Rather that than the truth. The truth was raw, and it hurt. 

He hung back, letting the rest of the guests follow the happy couple out of the chapel to give their personal congratulations. Pretending to need a few moments to pull himself together after the touching union, he sent Ben on his way. The Newton's checked in on him, asking if he was alright; a question he found himself getting sick of. No he wasn't alright, but was that a suitable conversation for a wedding? A fake bravado came to him as a much easier option. 

"Honestly Mrs N, I'm good. You go on, I'll catch up with you before we eat."

She squeezed his arm gently, "They'll find him, I know they will. You tell us when you get the call okay?"

He nodded in agreement. Newt's parents were the only people present, aside from Minho, who knew the situation. And they were the only ones who could understand how he was feeling. He had lost his boyfriend, his partner, his love. They had lost their only son; something no parent should have to face the prospect of. 

His own mother has rushed after her daughter to gush and dote over her in the way she always had done. Though today, he couldn't really blame her, Teresa was the star of the show after all. He went to follow on after the crowd when a hard hand held him in place. Thomas suppressed a groan.

"Dad."

"Nice show you put on back there Thomas. Congratulations, you got the attention of the whole room with your ridiculous blunder. Could you not even pay attention on your sister's special day for ten minutes?"

He shrugged himself free from the strong grip. "Whatever you say Dad."

"At least you managed to keep that boy toy of yours away. No need to worry though, I've managed to find a suitable replacement for you at the head table."

"Excuse me?" Thomas exclaimed, flabbergasted. He couldn't quite believe the words that were being spoken to him. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see." His father grinned at him knowingly. "Now, lets get moving shall we? We don't want to keep the bride and groom waiting, they'll be looking for us for photos."

Thomas skulked behind the older Greene, leaving the small chapel last out of everyone.  _Family photos, what a fucking joke._ He felt like a teenager again, dragging his heels as he was forced into the annual group shot of a happy clan. Teresa and Minho stood just outside, under an archway of lilac wisteria, bathing in the warm sun. His sister gave both of them a curious look. Their dad shook Minho's hand firmly, but his attention was all for his little girl.

"Congratulations sweetheart. Walking you down that aisle today made me the proudest Dad in the world." Teresa hugged him as Thomas gave his own celebratory handshake to his friend. He followed on to his sister, kissing her on the cheek after giving her his best smile. 

"Thomas, is everything okay? You seem a little dazed." She asked with worried eyes. "Why isn't Newt here? Did you two have a fight?"

He sighed heavily, not wanting to keep the truth from his sister, nor wanting to spoil her day. "Nothing we can't sort out." He shrugged, keeping his excuse as vague as possible, though keeping things vague from a newspaper editor was never an easy task. 

"A fight bad enough for him to stay away today? What happened? Tell me Thomas, maybe I can help?" 

"N-no... no. It's no big deal, really. You know how Newt can get sometimes... He'll come round before long. Hey, at least Dad will be happier eh?" He tried to make light of the situation, but it fell heavy on his heart, and his voice let it out as a strained whimper. Teresa squeezed their hands together tightly. "I want you to be happy too." She whispered.

He felt a genuine smile appear on his face, though the urge to cry was suddenly stronger from the sweet sentiment. He blinked them back furiously. "I'm fine Sis, stop worrying. Come on, lets get these photos out the way." He ordered, before leading the way outside, rubbing his eyes as he did. 

For the most part, the photography session was harmless. Though every shot he found himself in, he couldn't help but think of the man he should have been standing with. The group shots went first, so those who weren't of immediate family could mingle with the h'orderves. Confetti was thrown, cheers erupted, and everyone was in high spirits.

With only parents of one side present, Thomas had to suffer through a family portrait with his own brood. The happy couple stood in the middle, their parents on one side, and him alone on the other. Teresa held on to him tightly, pulling him in close, but he still felt the outcast. He hung back with Minho to let the parents have their turn with the bride, and mooched around alone whilst the married couple had plentiful of photos taken of them and their growing bump. 

He was about to leave them to it when Teresa called out. "Hold on Thomas! I want at least one with just me and my brother!" She beckoned him over as Minho ushered the others inside to find their seats for the three course meal they were to be treated to. Thomas walked out on to the grass where Teresa stood in front of the large lake. They found a spot under a pretty tree for shade, where they could face the camera with both the serene lake and the grand hotel behind them against a deep blue sky. In her heels she came up just half a head short, and she gently placed a hand on his chest as she hugged him for the shot.

"I know this is hard for you." She said as they let the professional take plenty of snaps. "But you means so much to me Thomas. You are my baby brother, but you are also my best friend; and I love you. Never forget that. You mean more to me than anyone, and I don't care who you are, what you do, or who you fuck." She laughed as he smirked at her crudeness. "I'm sorry Newt isn't here, thought I am surprised to see his parents still came. I look forward to talking with them."

He sniffed sharply, struggling to stop his lungs from shivering. "Sis, you are determined to make me cry today. You know I love you, and trust you very much. I would tell you almost anything, but right now... things are complicated with Newt, that's all. And don't go hounding his parents about it either. They are good people, and it effects them as much as it does me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's more than just a fight isn't it? Something has happened."

Thomas cursed her intuitiveness. "Please, forget about it okay? It's not something you have to worry about, not today."

"Fine." She resigned at last. "But I am expecting both of this one's Godfather's to pull their weight when he comes out. Whether they are together or not, you tell Newt that from me." He agreed, hoping with his whole heart that Teresa's expectations would be met.

They slowly walked back towards the building, changing the topic to a lighter one. They discussed trivial matters such as the venue, the weather, and the expected food which his empty stomach was eagerly awaiting. By the time they re-entered what had been the chapel, it had been transformed into a grand dining hall. Pews had been replaced by six round tables, covered in clean white linen clothes, and silver plated dinnerware. Bottles of wine stood in each one's centre, entwined with more white lilies. At the front of the room, where the altar had stood, was the head table. A seat was missing at each end where Minho's parents would have taken their places. Minho sat in the middle, next to an empty seat reserved for his betrothed. To his left sat Mrs Greene, followed by her husband. Thomas saw his empty seat next to his sister. His jaw dropped when he saw that Newt's seat was, as his father had hinted at earlier, occupied.

"No." He said in when he saw Teresa had also spotted the sly swap out. "No, no, no. I can't sit next to her. I won't." Sonya spotted him from Newt's seat, and waved at him with a smug smile on her face. "Dad... this is his doing. I'm gonna kill him." He glanced along the table. His Dad was making innocent small talk with his wife. At least Minho had the decency to look embarrassed at the situation. 

"Why he's so chummy with that stupid girl is beyond me." Teresa growled, sharing his distaste for the abhorrent blonde. "Minho insisted on inviting her, I regret allowing him now. Don't worry Thomas, I'll sort this." She hoisted her skirts up before marching through the room, giving out pleasant smiles to her guests as she did so. Thomas followed in her wake until they both stood in front of the head table. 

Mr Greene welcomed his children with an extended arm. "Finally, thought you two would never return. Take you seats, the starter will be out -"

"Why is she sitting there?" Teresa cut in coldly, pointing a sharp finger at Sonya. The girl simply sipped at her glass of wine. Their father rested his arm back on the table, giving them both a bored look.

"Because I will not have your brother sit alone at your wedding. This is the head table, where everyone can see. It should be filled."

"Fine, but not her." Thomas blurted out. "Ben can sit with me. Or I'll go sit with him, and you can find some other mug to take my place."

"You are my son, and your place is at this table." His father admitted. "I wasn't thrilled with the idea of having you sit up here with your boyfriend, and now given the chance, I will not have you fill it with another."

"Oh, so that's it." He muttered, catching on what was happening. "You don't want your gay son showing you up, so you stick me with a pretty girl."

"Keep your voice down." Was the spat reply. "Sit down, enjoy your food, and smile."

Teresa shook her head. "Its always about keeping up appearances with you isn't it? Well this is my wedding, and my seating plan. You can't -"

"I'll do what I like, and you'll do as I say. Unless you want to make a scene in front of all your guests. You are not a spoilt brat Teresa, do not act like one. Ah - here come's the first course. Places everyone, and remember, smile."

Thomas gritted his teeth as he surrendered into his given place. Sonya sat close to him, blatantly determined to make their time as awkward for him as possible. Teresa sat heavily in her seat. "Well thanks for your support back there." He heard her chide Minho. If Minho answered, he didn't hear.

Thomas was in a dark place, his hatred for his father bubbled within him, boiling his skin with its intensity. Sonya's sweet voice went through into his skull, making it pound with a pulsating throb. He wanted everyone to go away, he wanted to go home, he wanted to run... he wanted Newt. 

"This day is hard enough as it is, why must you insist on making it harder?" He shrugged Sonya off his shoulder as his smoked salmon starter was taken away. She gave him a look of contempt as she finished her glass of wine. "Bet you thought you'd gotten rid of me didn't you? Well, no-one chucks me out like that, not without payback."

"That's what this is? Payback because I didn't give in to your sick infatuation with me?"

"Infatuation?" She barked. "Don't flatter yourself. You're cute, but just a bit of fun. Now, be a dear and pour me another glass of wine." She puckered her lips in a mock kiss. He shuddered as he reached for the bottle. His eyes met Ben's who sat at one of the nearer tables, he wore a questioning look on his face.  _Great, the few people I do know here are going to think I've replaced Newt with this stupid girl._ Conversation on his left had been little and quiet. Teresa was obviously still pissed with Minho, and Thomas didn't blame her. He felt the exact same way. 

The meal seemed to go on for an eternity. His salmon was followed by pork belly with new potatoes, asparagus, and peas with a thick red jus. For dessert he enjoyed a redcurrant mousse cheesecake and baked lemon biscuits. In between each course came a cleansing sorbet, effectively lengthening the time sat at dinner. Sonya annoyed him the entire time with flirty movements, dirty talk, and constantly reminding him of Newt's absence. He didn't know how much longer he could take. He wanted to run, he wanted to pack up and go. It was getting late in the afternoon, and he still had had no contact from Ava; the lack of communication wearing down his nerves even more. By the time he heard the sound of a spoon against glass, he had had enough. He had to breakout.

"Ladies and gentleman." His father spoke proudly as the room quietened from his chime. "I know it is often the way that the groom is first to take the floor in the way of speeches. But forgive me for taking the lead on this occasion." He stood up, taking in the entire audience as he spoke. "I am a man lucky enough to be blessed with two children. One girl... and one boy. It fills me with joy that they are both sat at this same table as I, both wonderfully in love. I am a proud father to give my daughter away today to this fine man." He gestured casually to Minho. "And I hope it will not be too long before I can stand up again and do the same for my son." 

"Wrong!" Thomas yelled, slamming a fist down on the table, making both Sonya and Teresa jump. He would not take another sickening word. His father was making him look as if he was engaged to Sonya, as if performing the charade would make it come true. Silence ran through the room as Thomas ejected from his seat to face his father. It bothered him that he stood a half head shorter, but the anger stopped him from caring for long.

"Excuse me?" The older man questioned. "Are you drunk son? Go sit back down it'll be the turn for your speech soon."

"No! I am not drunk, and I will not do what you tell me to do. I am sick of your manipulation and your lies, only to protect what you consider to be your 'image'. I am not in love with this... this girl, I am love with some one else, a man in fact. And not a god damn thing you do or say is gonna change that, do you understand me? You can't replace Newt like this, not now, not ever."

A pin drop could be heard, and he felt all eyes on him. Most of all, he felt the hard cold gaze from the man leering down at him. His father's face had changed red as it shook with fury. "How dare you speak to me like that boy. Just because your pretty little boyfriend left you, gives you no excuse to embarrass me like that."

"Embarrass you? Why, father, I was under the impression that my very existence embarrassed you. That's why you've shunned me for the last ten years isn't it?" He felt himself lose control as he let out all his pent up anger and frustration in front of everyone. He heard Teresa call for him to stop, but he couldn't. "We used to be so close Dad. We used to watch and play sports together, wash the car on hot summer days, and go out and bring back that year's Christmas tree. Then I brought home a boy instead of a girl, and you cut me off before I could 'infect the household.'"

He would have got out more, if it wasn't for the fist that slammed into his jaw, sending him over the table and onto the floor, followed by dirty plates. Glasses smashed around him, as he huddled on the floor to protect himself from the shards. From there, everything flew by like a whirlwind. Screams and shouts from all directions flew over him. His jaw stung and he moved it around to try and loosen it a little. He may be an old man, but his Dad packed a punch.  

Minho got to him first, helping him up onto his feet. The floor was a mess, covered in glass and left over desserts. Suddenly silence drowned the room, and he wished a hole would appear under him and swallow him whole. Looking behind him, he saw a small sea of faces staring at him in amazement. Ben had also come over to help, and with Minho they brushed him down, asking if he was okay. "'m' fine." He shrugged them off. Sonya sat still in her seat, a look of stunned amazement on her face. Both his parents had left the room whilst he had been knocked down, fleeing from the scene through a side door near their table.

He didn't care about them, they could go to hell for all he cared. His useless mother who couldn't bring herself to speak to him, and his thug of a father. However the look his own sister gave him nearly killed him. She stood there, in the centre, staring at him with wide eyes of disbelief. They shone, quivering before tears escaped them. 

"How could you Thomas?" She asked with red eyes and as if she was out of breath. "All I wanted was one day. One day where you could be civil with one another."

"He started it, in case you hadn't noticed." He fired back with surprising ferocity. He didn't want to hurt his sister, least of all on her wedding day. But the damage had been done, and there was no going back. He suddenly felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Only one person would be trying to contact him. "Teresa I'm sorry. I hope you may yet understand someday." With that, he turned and ran from the room. 

Teresa yelled after him. "Understand what!?" But he ignored her. He had done his best, and he had failed, but Newt was still out there somewhere, and he would not fail him. He waited until he was outside before returning the missed call. He paced back and forth impatiently as it rang and rang. Eventually, a woman's voice answered.

"Ava?" He asked.

"Thomas, I'm glad you called back."

"Any news?" He asked eagerly. "Did you find him? Is he safe? Silence met him for a moment before she replied.

"I'm sorry Thomas, we scoured the place, but there was no sign of Newt."

He wanted to scream, he wanted to scream the place down and send it all to hell. "No. Impossible. Ava, he is there - Alby has him!"

"Thomas- we looked everywhere, we spoke to Alby and we waited for the land owner to return home. There is no sign of him, or of any unusual activity."

He knew Alby had Newt, a stabbing felling in his gut told him so. There was no way he was losing his lover to that maniac. "Ava, give me the address. Where is Alby?"

"I can't do that Thomas."

"Yes you can."

"No. That information is confidential. Besides, I'm stopping you from doing something stupid."

"Letting a man go who has Newt tied up somewhere is what's stupid!"

The line cut off and he nearly threw his phone down in frustration when an idea hit him. He rang the number back, thankful that Ava picked up again.

"Yes Thomas?" She asked curtly.

"Are you a gambler Ava?" He asked, looking to catch the woman off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"Because I'd be willing to bet that Newt's disappearance, and your failure to protect him hasn't quite reached the media yet." Silence waited on the other side, but he knew she was still listening to him. "I don't know if you are aware, but my sister is the head editor of a popular newspaper. One word from me, and you'll be facing a lot of awkward questions."

"... Are you blackmailing me Thomas?"

"Yes. Yes I am. Now, what address did you say it was?"

He was inputting the information into his phone when Minho caught him at the door. Thomas braced himself for the onslaught, but Minho looked anything but angry. 

"Uh... look Min, sorry. I didn't mean to fuck things up so bad. I'm just in so deep with all this stuff with Newt. I exploded, and I really am sorry for ruining your day."

Being the usual brilliant friend that he was, Minho just smiled at him. "Don't sweat it man. Your parents have disappeared back to their rooms, they'll come back out later I'm sure. Better yet, Teresa is no longer angry with me, just you. So thanks for that at least."

Thomas surprised himself by laughing. The whole situation was absurd, and it was all he found he could do. "Bet everyone's talking about me huh?"

"Ben's talking you up to everyone, and most of them seem to either not care, or are on your side. Sonya has skulked off somewhere, and the Newton's are helping calm Teresa down. You should come back, it's honestly not as bad as you think."

He shook his head. "Sorry Minho, I've spent far too long here. I've gotta go." He stared at the location on the map on his phone. He was about a two hour drive away.

"You're going to find him aren't you? Thomas, be careful man. The guy's a nutcase."

"Don't I just know it." He replied, holding up his hand that still sported a tiny scar from one of his previous altercations with Newt's ex boyfriend. "Your honeymooning in The Maldives right? When are you going?"

"We stay here tonight, and catch a midday flight tomorrow." Minho understood the scenario. "Promise me you'll keep safe Thomas. I don't want to get back and not have a best man anymore. Your sister will kill me."

Thomas smiled. "I promise."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	20. A Waiting Game

The sudden loud banging noises from above saved him from Alby's seed. Newt huddled himself up into a ball as soon as Alby pulled out, thankful for the sudden interruption. To his surprise, Alby had been gentle in his 'love making', almost loving in his slow and sensuous pace. However Newt felt nothing but disgust and violation as Alby had moved inside him, looming over him, sweaty and with heavy breathes. It was wrong and revolting, but most of all, Newt felt guilt. A sharp pain in his heart that hurt more than if the forced sex had been rough. Since the day he escaped Alby, Newt had dedicated himself to Thomas. Years had gone by, and through thick and thin they had stayed by each other's side, not wavering once in their commitment of love. Now, he had been spoilt. He felt dirty and used as he curled up on the dirty floor to the sounds of jeans being hurriedly pulled and zipped back up.

"Must be your people, took them long enough." Alby muttered just as the sound repeated itself. It echoed from upstairs, its dull sound rippling through the dark and empty space. Newt rocked himself back and forth, a motion he had become accustomed to doing in his long hours of solitude, barely listening. He had gotten used to the stench of his own sweat and filth alongside the damp and rotted remains of Gally; but the smell of lust and the pressing sense of domination from Alby were both new and sickening additions to the mix. He continued to rock as Alby pulled on his black vest and made for the stairwell.

He glanced back as he began his ascent. "Don't even think about calling out. You're not gonna make a sound, not even a whimper. Cause if you do..." He lifted his vest to expose a black hilt. A line of shimmering steel ran in the middle of its length, promising a strong base for a deadly blade. "They will die." Newt caught sight of it in the reflection of subdued morning light, and his heart stopped for a moment. He had not noticed the weapon before, and though there was no scent of alcohol on Alby's breath, he knew how dangerous the man could be. 

He nodded hurriedly when Alby widened his eyes questioningly. As much as he wanted to escape, he would not risk anyone's life to do so. He had no idea how many officers would be at the door. Knowing Ava, she would make it her personal responsibility to find him and get him back safely. He would not jeopardize her safety. Newt rested his head against the radiator, what had become his uncomfortable pillow since his arrival. He had lost all concept of time, the sunlight only giving him the faintest idea that it was daytime, but of what day he had no idea. Each hour blended into the next, until time was an irrelevant factor. 

Three times a day Alby would bring him simple food of bread and cheese, water, apples and grapes and the occasional slice of ham. It was just enough to keep him going, but he felt weak and tired from the lack of nutrition, and was constantly hungry. The skin on his hands were raw and dry from their punishments against the hot radiator, and his neck and back ached awfully. His minimal water allowance gave him headaches, and the stench of the room left him feeling dizzy and nauseated. Part of him wanted to die, but Alby would not let him. Part of him wanted to live, but Alby would not let him escape. All of him wanted Thomas, to be held by him and be kissed, and have his hair lovingly stroked. But Newt could not figure out a way to get to him. 

He closed his eyes and let his hearing senses take over, but try as he might he could not hear what was being said above. Murmuring sounds was all he was able to decipher, and he soon gave up on trying to listen. Instead he contemplated his surroundings like he had a thousand times before, hoping to spy something he had not seen before. His hands were tied just as tightly as they had been upon his arrival, and there was nothing in his vicinity apart from dirt, stone floor, and the stinking piss-filled bucket that was his own personal toilet. Luckily his small diet led to few stools, and he had been able to time them close to Alby's routine arrival, so he wouldn't need to stomach the smell of his own shit for too long.

Footsteps sounded against the hatch at the top of the stairs, at least two pairs, maybe three, though one set probably belonged to Alby. No doubt the small door had been covered with straw or some sort of disguised front to stop prying eyes from finding it. Newt fought the urge to call out, he nearly screamed for help, he felt it bubbling at the back of his throat, but he forced it back down. Even if he so much as coughed, it could end the lives of the poor innocents upstairs. Aris' and Gally's deaths were already on his conscience, he didn't want any more.  

Silently he waited, listening out for any clues as to who the visitors were. He heard a woman's voice, but couldn't be sure if it was his boss and friend or not. He closed his eyes again, tightly this time, hoping in some disillusioned way that if he thought hard enough, she would hear him.  _I'm down here. I'm right below your feet. Find me._ The voices quietened, and the footsteps faded away, along with any hope of being rescued. Roughly an hour of absolute silence passed, before the sudden sound of the hatch re-opening jolted him out of his trance. 

"That was easier than I thought." Alby muttered as he made his way back down to Newt's level. 

"Who was it?" Newt questioned immediately. "What did you say to them?"

Alby put a finger to his lips, to his shame Newt quietened immediately. The man sat next to him, uncomfortably close enough so Newt could feel his breath. "Ava Paige, your boss right? And some other schmuck. They've got a whole team out looking for you, searching the property and the land. Asked me a few questions, the usual drill. Where I've been, who I've seen, can anyone verify my whereabouts, so on so forth. Stupid fools, got nothing on me, they've gone now."

"Gone?" Newt checked quietly. "Just like that?"

The other smiled triumphantly. "Yup, as far as old Farmer Bill is concerned, I've never left this stupid farm, let alone driven down to kidnap you. He'll verify whatever I say, and your people aint got nothing else to go on. it's just you and me now Newt. Now, where were we?"

Newt wanted to cry. To scream, and shout, and kick and holler. His one chance of escape had withered away to nothing, and his future looked bleak at best. He felt Alby tugging at his naked legs, teasing them open once again. 

"How long do you plan on keeping me here?" His question succeeded in stopping the man's actions. Alby sat back against the radiator, letting out a heavy sigh. "What's the plan Alby?" He continued. "To spend the rest of our lives in this shithole?" 

His captor raised a hand and slowly stroked his cheek. Newt stopped himself from shuddering from the touch, an offended Alby was an angry one. "Until I can trust that you won't leave me again." Alby half-whispered. 

Newt blinked in surprise at the revelation. "Alby. That is never going to happen." He shook his head to emphasis his point. "I will always try to get away from you."

He closed his eyes and braced himself for the hit, but it didn't come. He opened his eyes again to find Alby staring at him solemnly. "Then you will always remain down here." He stated coldly. 

"Alby. You love me right?" Newt waited for the quiet nod. "Then let me go. If you truly love and care for me, let me go. Keeping me locked up as your prisoner is an act of hate, not love."

"Why? So you can crawl back to _him?_ "

Newt gulped, neither of them had mentioned Thomas since their reunion. "I love Thomas, not you."

"You belong to me!" Alby spat out in a whisper. "Not him! You were mine - and he stole you from me!"

It was strange, talking to Alby after so many years. Before now, the only words had been threats and orders, with only silent submissions allowed as a reply. Before his arrest, their communication had been violent rages and drunken threats. Now, although the subject was tense, and the environment far from normal, they were having what felt as close as it had ever been to a normal conversation. 

"He didn't steal me Alby. You chased me away, and I found him."

"I never meant to do that to you Newt. I know I messed up, but I've changed, I really have. I just had to make you see that I'm not that man anymore." Alby's voice was tight, hoarse from emotion, and Newt couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was the man so deluded?

"You tried to kill me. You killed Aris. You beat Thomas within an inch of his life. What right do you have to sound so outdone?"

"I'm different no-"

"Different?" Newt interrupted, fueled with anger and bravery. He had tried staying docile, it hand't worked. He had tried fighting back, it hadn't worked. He had tried waiting for someone to rescue him, it hadn't worked. He was sick and tired of being submissive, of playing it safe, of letting Alby have his way. Newt could afford to be careless, what did he have to lose? His life? What life did he have to look forward to now? He gestured with his head to the congealed red soaked bag. "Tell that to Gally."

Alby's face turned dead as stone. "He had it coming."

"Why?"

"Five years ago. At court, he was supposed to appear as my alibi. I paid him all the money I had left, for him to testify my innocence. He didn't show. He took my money, and ran, leaving me to rot in prison. When I got out, I found him. He begged for my forgiveness, pleaded with me with all his pathetic cowardice. He deserved to die."

Newt leaned forward, getting as close to Alby's face as he dared. "You didn't just kill him. You cut him. You sliced him up piece by piece, and shipped him off to fulfill your morbid threats. You tortured him, and still hold on to his dismal remains." He spat each point out in disgust. "Today, if I had yelled out, you would have killed even more people without hesitation. You're a serial killer Alby. You're sick, and twisted, and I do not love you." He stopped, to swallow thickly, letting each word soak into Alby's thick skull. "I despise you."

This time the hit came. Newt hissed as the force from the slap whipped his head to the side. He had long gotten used to the stinging sensation, but the pain never failed to come. 

"You will learn." 

"Learn? You can't train me to love you Alby like some puppy. You can keep me here against my will, call me yours if you so wish, but I will never _be_ yours. Why would I love you? You're fucked up in the head. Sick and twisted, murderous and disgusting. You dedicate your whole life with this sick fascination with me, and you know what the really fucked up part is? You _had_ me. I was yours, and you were mine, and we were both happy. But you changed Alby. You morphed into a violent, paranoid parasite that drained all the joy out of us bit by bit, until there was nothing left. You say I left you. You say I was stolen from you. But the truth is, you destroyed what we had - not me, not Thomas or anyone else. You."

Newt let the words flee from his mouth, letting all his pent up anger and frustration out. He no longer cared of the consequences, the future for him was bleak, and he had nothing more to lose. Alby had stripped him of everything, his life, his love, his dignity, but he would not submit willingly any longer. Alby had listened, still as a statue, but something struck home. In a flash, Newt was pinned up against the wall, the sharp point of the knife he saw a hint of earlier sat menacingly against his neck. Alby's eyes bore into him, full of fury. 

"If I can't have you, then I'll make sure no-one else will!" Alby yelled, tightening the grip on his weapon's hilt. Newt felt the point graze his tender skin, a thin trail of wetness trickling from where the blade caught him. He froze, knowing that one sudden movement would cause his own death. 

"Do it then!" He demanded, making his voice as strong as he could. "Kill me. Make me yours." 

He could see the fear and panic in Alby's eyes. The sudden ultimatum he had not been expecting. Newt did not dare breathe, his fate rested dangerously in his twisted captor's hands. Minutes felt like hours. Pinned against the wall, Newt could do nothing but continue to stare into Alby's maddening eyes, watching as the cogs behind them turned furiously. The only sounds were from Alby's ragged breathing, and then, crying. Tears fell as the man stood up with hunched shoulders and clenched fists; the knife still held tightly in one hand. 

"I-I can't. I love you too much."

Newt allowed himself to breathe again. He wanted to feel his neck, but the rope prevented him from doing so. For a moment, he had thought Alby would have done it, and for that moment, he hadn't cared. He had given up, ready to fade away into the darkness, into peace. But as the possibility of death flashed before him, so did Thomas' face. He owed his true lover more than a corpse to mourn, he had to find a way out, and back home. 

"Alby please. If you love me, truly love me, you have to let me go. I won't let you get into trouble, just let me go." 

Alby's snivels had become uncontrollable. Was he feeling guilt? Was he finally comprehending his actions? He had become so close to doing it, not even Newt was sure if Alby could have finished him off. "Alby?"

"I'm sorry." He whimpered, before holstering the knife and walking away. Newt could only watch as was left alone again in the dark room. His last shot had failed, and he had run out of ideas that could lead to his escape.

The small cut the knife had left hurt, and reminded him of how close he had come to having his life spilt out onto the floor. He huddled himself together and commenced rocking back and forth. He stayed like that for hours, humming to himself random tunes from memory, some of his favourite songs, as well as child hood nursery rhymes. He continued his motions, Alby had left him naked, and it helped fight off the cold. The room slowly darkened as he guessed afternoon, and finally evening went by. Alby returned only once to provide him with a cheese and ham sandwich, packet of salted crisps, and a pitcher of water. The food was a treat compared to previous days, and Newt hungrily devoured the lot. Alby watched him silently, before mercifully redressing him and leaving him once again. 

At night, the room became pitch black. Usually Alby would lie with him, but tonight he was left alone. Newt wondered what impact their conversation had had on the man. Would he change his mind and let him go? No, somehow he knew that no matter what, Alby would never willingly give him up. Newt slid down onto the floor as far as his restraints would allow. He could never sleep comfortably, but he was so tired and drained that he was soon able to drift off. Like every night, he thought of his Tommy, and like every night, he cried himself to sleep at the idea that he would never see him again.

Outside the night was cold but dry. The farm seemed empty of life. The lights in the farmhouse were all off, and the barn was locked and bolted for the night. All the animals were quiet, asleep or sheltering in their paddocks. There were no clouds, and the sky was lit with diamond stars, twinkling in the twilight. Crouched behind a thick patch of shrubbery, Thomas watched and waited. The farmer had returned home late that afternoon, heading straight into the house before coming back out to tend to his animals. First the pigs, then the chickens, then round the back to the horses' stables. 

Whilst the farmer had been cleaning out the pig sty, Alby made his first appearance. Thomas caught sight of him straight away, his blood running hot with anger. His enemy had come from the barn with a face of thunder. He met up with the farmer, and commenced helping with the chores. A short while later, he too went into the house, only to then leave again. Thomas saw a small supply of food in his hands. He watched as Alby went over to the barn and entered, audibly locking the door behind him. Thomas sat huddled in a thick coat, glad that he had gone home to change out of his wedding suit before making his journey. At least he knew he was in the right place, and that Ava had not been lying to him. 

He waited another thirty minutes before Alby reemerged, with no food or drink in his possession. He scanned the area as he made his way back to the house. Thomas ducked down instinctively, not chancing being spotted, even in the darkness. He felt his phone vibrate silently in his jeans pocket, but he ignored it. He had already received several missed calls from Ava and Minho, as well as worried texts from his friends. His sister had text him as well, demanding an explanation. It hurt him to send back a short reply, promising to explain things later. He kept his eye on the dark shadow as it made its way back into the house. Thomas couldn't be sure exactly where, not yet, but Newt was somewhere on the farm, he knew it. But he had to be absolutely positive where, before making a move. He would only get one chance, and he could not afford to blow it. 

 

 

 

 

 


	21. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are reunited at last, but for how long?

For two days Thomas remained at his station, observing the daily activities of the bustling farm from his selected advantage point. He had moved from his original position to a small outcrop which sat at the top of a mound, giving him a perfect view of the entire premises, whilst retaining cover from a wall of slim trees that ran along the edge of one of the grazing fields. The natural barrier gave him just the right amount of shield, without exposing himself to any happenstance onlookers.

It took every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from rushing in head first on his arrival. He knew Newt was down there somewhere, and every second wasted was more time for the blonde to suffer, but Thomas had to be one hundred percent certain. He sat and watched, tracking Alby's movements as well as the farmer's until he knew their daily routine off by heart. Rain had settled in on his first night watch, and it had hardly given him a break since. The nights were cold, wind biting into his wet skin, his clothes drenched, tight and uncomfortable. The food rations of bread, ham and dried fruit he had brought with him had long since gone. His stomach grumbled achingly as he watched the sun go down, marking the beginning of his third night.

His car was parked teasingly not far away, back down opposite the entrance of the farm, parked inconspicuously outside a neighbouring house. Many times he had been tempted to take refuge in the dry shelter of his vehicle, but any time away from his spot gave the chance for something to happen that he could not afford to miss. Boredom and tiredness had been his worst enemies. Several times he found himself staring at nothing, lost in his own world of lethargic thoughts. At least in that sense the rain was a blessing, the cold and the wet kept him awake and alert; it was impossible to doze off in such weather.

He sighed in relief as the rain finally stopped. He took it as a sign, tonight was the night. He was confident he knew where Newt was being kept, and he had studied the routines of both of the farm's residents over his time hunched down under cover. His watch told him it was nearing seven, the sky was a deep red as the sun slowly descended below the horizon. He had seen Alby enter the barn a short while ago. The farmer was currently feeding all his animals their dinner, followed closely by his loyal working dog.

A medley of animal sounds filled the air as they happily received their evening meal, as their owner worked his way up and down the different pens that sat behind his house. Afterwards he would clean out the dirtier habitats, wash down the tractor, and finally retire for the evening. By then Alby would have re-appeared, only to also join his employer in the residential building. Once both men were inside, Thomas would have another hour of waiting before Alby would make one last visit to his captive, sometimes for ten minutes, sometimes for a good hour.

Thomas had seen him exit with a smirk on his face, or a scowl, or a face of thunder. At those moments it took all of his willpower not to charge his enemy, take him by surprise and beat him to a pulp. Instead he had simply watched, trying not to dwell too much on what Alby could be doing to Newt in their moments spent together.

The immediate farm layout was relatively simple. Opposite his parked car, the entrance was blocked off by a simple wide wooden gate, built to keep animals escaping rather than as a security measure. From there, a dirt path led upwards as an avenue with fruit trees either side, all the way up to a large clear area. To the left was a small grazing field where Thomas had seen sheep tend to their lambs. The field sloped slowly upwards to his chosen position, giving him the perfect lookout point. Stables stood opposite the field, the quiet braying of horses emitting from the half-cut doors. The farmhouse stood in-between, at an angle favouring the stable's side.

In between he house and the field, next to a small path that led back round to the rest of the farm, stood a weathered barn, it's once bright red paint aged to a faded and dusty rouge. Thomas went over his route as he waited for his mark. Down through the field, into the barn, rescue Newt, out the front gate and into his car. Sounded simple when he recited it like that in his head. There was also one altercation he had not found a solution too. Just outside the house sat a dog kennel, where during night hours a rather large pitbull terrier slept. The dog itself didn't worry Thomas, it was secured on a leash. However the noise the beast could make would result in some unwanted company on his mission. Thomas had no food on him to befriend the animal with, he would just need to be as quiet as possible.

As he waited he turned his phone on. He had kept it turned off since arriving, saving the battery for when he might need it. He ignored the multitude of missed calls from Minho, Teresa, Ava and Harriet, swiping them away in annoyance. Harriet was probably wondering why The Homestead was shut and in darkness for the last couple of days with no explanation. He sent her a quick message explaining that both her and Darnell would be paid for the closed days, and that he would contact them when he re-opened. He didn't give them an excuse for his absence; he couldn't think of one.

He still felt guilty for his sister, she was on her honeymoon from the wedding he caused a commotion at and stormed out of, and she was trying to contact him when she should be enjoying her private time with her new husband. As for Ava, he guessed she cared to know how her blackmailer was doing, and if her little secret was still safe. He did not bother to even read their messages, he did not want any distractions. The sun was getting lower, and the sky was darkening when Alby entered the barn for the second time that evening.

Thomas crouched low in anticipation, the right time was finally nearing. He kept his thoughts positive, imagining driving home with Newt next to him, the blonde was sleeping peacefully, tired from his ordeal. Thomas needed to sleep too, they would pull in at a bed and breakfast, eat together, rest together, hold each other. Thomas could smell Newt as he held him close, squeezing him as tightly as he could. Soon they would be back home in their flat, safe and sound.

But what then? What happens afterwards? He had been so wrapped up in the now, he hadn't even thought of the future. Would Alby ever leave them alone? He doubted it, Alby wanted Newt and would not stop until he had him. Would Newt have to press charges again? Thomas didn't think either of them could go through that again. And what about Ava? She would not want her failure to be dragged through the press, would she allow it to happen? There was so much to think about, so much that sat on a knife's edge, threatening to go either way.

Thomas missed his simple life, his flat above his shop, his friend Minho, and his sister Teresa. There had been nothing else back then. But then, there had been no Newt either. Despite all the drama that flooded into his peaceful life since the blonde came into it, he knew he would never be happy without him.

The night was deathly quiet, and the sound of the barn door closing reached his ears easily, puling him back to reality. Through the gloom he could just make out Alby's silhouette stalk back towards the house. The figure stopped as it usually would to give attention to the pit-bull, before finally disappearing inside. Thomas waited an hour before finally leaving his position. Not moving until all the lights in the house had been extinguished.

He picked up the crowbar he had brought with him. He had found it years ago behind The Homestead, and had always kept it under the pretense of security; now he was glad that he had. His knees creaked from being still so long in a hunched position, and his back and neck were sore from lack of rest, but Thomas made his way through the trees and vaulted himself over the small stone wall with ease.

The grazing field was void of life, but he moved quietly and steadily, making as little noise as possible as he trod carefully through the grassy plain. By the time he reached the other end, everything was suddenly a lot closer to him than how it looked back at the top of the slope. He could see one of the horses through a stable door, its eyes fixed on him for a moment before it whinnied and turned its back on him. He was thankful for that, and the eerie feeling that came from being watched eased a bit.

It was late, and there were no lights to be seen in the house. The dog was growling quietly in its sleep. Thomas had hoped it would rest inside its kennel, but instead it had chosen to sleep outside, making the most of the dry, and surprisingly warm night. The kennel was unnervingly close to the barn, almost directly opposite on the other side of the open space. There was a gate that led out of the field, but Thomas opted to vault over the wall instead. A creaky gate was not worth the risk, and he landed on the other side on light feet and soft soles. He felt incredibly exposed, right in the centre of everything. A chance glance out of a window would expose him, and he felt eyes from all angles, even though they were none.

He crept over to the barn, keeping as far away from the dog as possible. He froze when a loud bark erupted out of it in it's sleep. Thomas remained motionless for a few minutes, until he was sure no-one had been disturbed by the random and sudden noise. He finished his course to the dilapidated building, and was pleasantly surprised to find it was not locked. He opened the large door just enough to let him in before closing it again, before its old hinges could make too much of a commotion. 

He wished he had brought a torch. The room was pure darkness to him as he first entered. The only source of light came from sky windows that allowed in beams of silver moonlight. Fortunately it was a near full moon, and the sky was cloudless. He let his eyes adjust to the lightening room until he found he could see quite clearly in the blessed skylight. As the entirety of the room became visible to him, his heart sunk. Newt was nowhere to be seen.

The barn was mainly empty. A small tractor was parked in one of the back corners, some bales of hay in another. The floor was covered in a thin carpet of hay that had malted from the bales, filling the room with a musty farm smell. He ran his hand along the wall as he searched the room, looking in every small crevice and behind every obstacle. He found nothing. Desperation sunk into him as he began to kick at the hay on the floor, frustration fueling him as he fought the urge to scream out. Had he been wrong all this time? Was Alby innocent? Did he have Newt hidden somewhere else? Was Newt simply... gone? He had come to far, waited too long to have come for nothing.

He froze as he spotted something he had not seen before. He had been kicking hay around at the back of the barn and was making his way to the front when he saw it. It was difficult to spot, but there was a trail of activity in the hay, starting at the entrance and stopping in the middle of the room. Thomas had worked round the room clockwise, and had not not stepped in the middle of the room, so he knew they did not belong to him. The faded footprints must belong to Alby, and the route was short and direct, stopping directly in the middle of the room where the hay on the floor was at a thicker density. Getting down on his hands and knees he swept away the hay, grimacing as he caught his hand on something sharp. He wiped away the blood and looked down at the silver latch that had cut him. A hidden door.

Hope filled him as he cleared the rest of the area, revealing a large trapdoor. There was no longer any doubt in Thomas' mind. Newt was underneath him, there was no other reason why Alby would go to so much trouble to keep the door hidden. The silver padlock on the latch however, was not a happy sight. It was a large lock, with just enough space for him to lodge his crowbar in. Once in place, he put all his weight behind the bar as he pushed against the lock, urging it to break. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he strained against it, until at last it buckled, and broke with a sickening loud snapping noise.

As the lock broke, Thomas flew with it, flailing onto the ground under his own momentum. Picking himself back up and retrieving his crowbar, he pulled back the hatch to reveal a dark staircase. He began to descend, taking his first careful step downwards. Suddenly the eerie silence was broken by a loud barking noise. The dog had been alerted by the loud noise. Thomas hurried down the remaining steps.

The room below was even darker than above, Thomas could hardly see a thing. The echoing woofing from above reminded him that he had very little time, and he scanned the foul-smelling room.

"Newt!?" He called out, gingerly stepping forward in the darkness. "Newt are you down here?" The stench frightened him, it smelt of blood and death, rotting together down here in the darkness. "Newt!" He gave up on quietness in desperation. He could barely see in front of his own face.

"T-T-Thomas?" The weak voice was heaven sent. He had not heard it in so long, and wasn't sure if he ever would again.

"Newt! It's me! Where are you? I can't see."

"Thomas." Newt repeated, his voice growing stronger as he used it. "You came... you came for me."

"Of course I did." Thomas continued the conversation, walking towards the sound of his boyfriend. "I would never leave you behind. I'm coming for you. Were getting out of here."

"Thomas..." Newt repeated again and again. "Tommy... I can't believe it's you."

"It's me Newt. I'm here for you." Thomas grunted as he walked into a wall, banging his head softly against the hard surface. He followed it with his hand, making his way deeper into the room.

"Alby - he's here Thomas. It's not safe, you need to leave. Get Ava..." Thomas shook his head despite the darkness.

"No. I'm not leaving now, not without you." Newt's voice had been getting louder and louder as he got closer, and Thomas could now hear his ragged breathing in the darkness. His eyes had adjusted as best they could, and he could see a hunched figure on the floor just in front of him. It was Newt.

"Newt!" He ran forwards, sliding onto his knees and hugging the bound figure tightly. "I never thought I'd see you again!" He ran his hands through the blonde hair, not caring about the dirt he could feel, or the horrid smell that surrounded them. He stopped when Newt groaned in pain. "Newt? Are you hurt? What did he do to you?"

"Hands." Newt whimpered. Thomas found the blonde's shoulders and followed them behind to where they were awkwardly bound together with coarse rope.

"Shit, that bastard." Thomas spat as he worked on the rope with his bare hands. He wished he had brought a knife, or even some scissors to help him with the well knotted material. He pried at it with his fingers, wincing as he felt his thumbnails bend and break at the exertion, but he kept going. He growled as he pulled, ignoring the searing pain for what seemed an eternity until suddenly the knot buckled in his grip. Newt helped him the rest of the way, yanking his hands out of their restraints. Once free, Newt immediately threw himself at Thomas, coiling himself around his body.

"It's you Tommy. It's really you..." Newt's whole body shook as he sobbed. Thomas held him close, offering soothing sounds as they lay on the floor together; reunited at last.

"It was horrible... he did so many things to me, I-I thought I'd never get to see you again." Newt cried unashamedly, soaking Thomas' shirt with sweet tears. Thomas felt relief that he had found Newt, relief, and anger. He held a broken man against him, one that had been tortured and abused, one that he was supposed to protect.

"It's okay baby, I'm gonna get you out of here." He clumsily re-positioned them, and found Newt's face, holding it gently in his hands. He could just about make out his face, beaten and bruised, cut and bloody. He found Newt's lips, and kissed them tenderly, tasting them as he had wanted to for so long.

"I love you Newt." He whispered as he broke away. Newt kissed back gently, "Love you Tommy."

Suddenly Thomas' world turned painfully bright as the room was filled with white light. He fought to keep his eyes open as Newt coiled up next to him. His vision was blurry as he blinked his eyes open again, they had gotten too used to darkness and the sudden change was painful.

He took a sharp intake of breath as he looked upon Newt in the light for the first time. Newt was slender before, but now he was dangerously thin, his once fitted clothes hanging loosely on his frame. His clothes were caked in dirt and mud, his arms were bruised and his wrists were scratched and bloody from the rough rope that had bound them. His hands were blistered and raw, fingernails long and filthy. The once golden hair was tangled and dark with grit, and his face was bruised, cut, and streaked with tears.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Thomas looked up to who had plunged them into whiteness, the man who had left Newt in such a sorry state.

Alby stood over them, half way up the staircase where a light switch Thomas had missed hung from the ceiling. He was dressed in a black t-shirt and boxer shorts, and held a steel baseball bat casually in his hands. Thomas instinctively held Newt closer to him.

"Were leaving." He stated, standing up slowly as he brought Newt up with him. The blonde looked like he could barely hold his own weight up. In his free hand he gripped his crowbar tightly. Alby simply smirked at him.

"Oh no Tommy." He pointed the bat directly at Thomas. "You're not going anywhere."


	22. Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a shortie I'm afraid, to keep you going :) Enjoy.

Thomas positioned himself in front of Newt, shielding the blonde as he stood as tall as he could, glaring up at his enemy. He gripped his crowbar tight enough that his knuckles turned white as he prepared himself for a fight. The days spent in the rain planning a stealth rescue had blown up in his face; and the ashes tasted bitter in his mouth, Newt sat huddled behind him, beaten and so silent that Thomas could barely pick up on his breathing. Newt's condition fueled his hatred towards the man above. Alby slowly started to descend to their level, smiling to himself as his bare footsteps thumped dully on the steps. His cockiness only increased Thomas' fury as he focused on the man who has caused so much pain and suffering to the man he loved. 

"I knew you'd show up one day." Alby explained with a shrug as he casually swung his bat in his hand. His underclothes showed off his physique, and farm life had been good to him. Thomas remembered him as a well built man, but his arms and thighs were bigger than they were before, bulging against the material. Alby reached the floor with a final step, and turned his head almost mechanically to stare down his opponent with concentrated resentment. "You can never leave us alone can you? Always turning up to spoil everything."

In spite of everything, Thomas let out a sharp bark of laughter at the irony of Alby's point of view. For five years Alby has been a massive shadow over their lives; one that refused to dissipate. Was the man really so blind to his own actions? Thomas could not understand his twisted manifestation of what he called love. 

"Look at him." Thomas ventured, feeling for Alby's better nature. He wasn't sure there was one, but if he could get out without it coming to throwing punches, then he would. "He's hurt bad, let me take him home so I can take care of him."

"He is home!" Alby shouted back ferociously. "He belongs here with me! You stole him from me, he was mine!"

"You can't own a human being Alby. You have no right to lock him up, away from everyone and everything. You can't beat him until he obeys you, you can't force him to love you back. You drove him away with violence, what makes you think violence will make him stay now? The only thing that's kept him here is the rope you bound him with - not you."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do Thomas. I do what I want." Alby's voice turned dead, the sound of a man who had lost all hearing to reason. "Newt belongs with me, you try and take him away and you will get hurt." 

"I don't care." Thomas growled. "You've already caused too much pain to Newt, I will not allow you to cause any more in your sick vision of 'love'. Enough is enough Alby. This stops here. Were leaving." He motioned to the quivering blonde behind him. "And if you don't get out the way then I will mow you down myself." 

"Tommy no..." His ears pricked at the soft voice. "I don't want you to get hurt." Thomas went to his boyfriend, kneeling down to get to his level. His heart glowed, even now, after all he'd been through, Newt was still more concerned about Thomas' well being over his own. He lifted Newt's chin with a gentle hand, making fearful brown eyes meet his own. Thomas could here Newt's breathing growing more and more rapid, and he feared the blonde was getting closer and closer to a panic attack.

"Hey, I know it's hard but try to relax okay? I'm gonna get you home soon." He stroked small circles on dirty cheeks, touching skin he was so attuned to, and had been kept away from for too long. Newt blinked away forming tears, and appeared to gain control over his breathing. Thomas touched their heads together, bringing them into their own zone, blocking everything out and calming Newt down.

"Be strong Tommy." Newt whispered, his chapped lips grazing against Thomas' soft ones. Unable too resist temptation, Thomas captured the moving lips in a warm kiss. Newt pulled back briefly, before meeting him in a moment of gentle bliss. 

"Get your hands off him!" Alby's voice boomed from the other side of the room, interrupting their peaceful reunion. Thomas could hear heavy footsteps approaching behind his back. He had wanted to spend more time holding and comforting Newt, but it seemed Alby was not going to allow him that chance. The fight for Newt had begun. 

"Thomas look out!" Newt warned him but Thomas had already reacted, his senses pumped up into overdrive mode. He was already standing, turning to see Alby charging at him, his metal weapon brandished menacingly over his head. Thomas sped to the middle of the room, taking the action away from Newt, and luring Alby into the open space. He held his own weapon out in front of him, ready to deal with the oncoming attack. He realised his fighting experienced was restricted to high school brawls and drunken bar scraps, most of which ended with him on the floor with a bloodied lip and a bruised ego. This was an entirely different ball park, and the stakes were a whole lot higher. 

Alby let out a hauntingly savage scream as he charged, immediately losing his calm composure and showing just how manically mad he actually was. Thomas saw the downward swing and dived to the left, missing Alby's wild hit and rolling over before jumping back up onto his feet. He immediately ripped his crow bar around, connecting it with the back of Alby's knee. He hit blindly, but his ears confirmed he had struck his target as Alby let out a wild shriek.

"Newt get upstairs! Now!" Thomas called as he retreated a few steps out of Alby's range who had quickly recovered from the hit.

"Don't you fucking move!" The darker man screamed at the beaten blonde. Newt visibly recoiled, shrinking back against the wall where he stood frozen to the spot. Alby resumed his assault, swinging his weapon down repeatedly. Thomas guarded each blow with strained effort under Alby's brute force, his bones rattling as vibrations from the tremors ran up his arms. He jumped to the side to find space, but Alby was on him again, strong and relentless, hitting over and over. Thomas didn't know how long he could keep it up for, as he struggled to deflect each blow. 

Thomas leapt back again, and lunged forward immediately, catching Alby off guard, forcing him to block his attack. Seizing the opportunity, Thomas lashed out rapidly. High, then low, then in the middle, seeking a crack in Alby's defense as he had been doing to him before. They danced across the floor, sparring with their makeshift weapons as though they were swords, the clanging noises of their clashes echoing loudly against the hollow room's stone walls deafeningly. 

Sweat dripped from his forehead as Thomas kept up with the relentless onslaught. Alby broke through after a parry, and delivered a heavy shove that staggered Thomas backwards. An abrupt burning pain from his thigh told him he had been struck by something hard. He limped back out of range, his upper leg throbbing from the impact. Panting heavily, he took deep breathes, ignoring the pain the baseball bat had inflicted. Time for a breather was a far off dream, as Alby approached him again.

"Not bad Thomas." The older man leered. "But you're tiring, you can't beat me." He stood, leaning casually on his bat, looking as if he hadn't even broken a sweat. "Tell you what - a proposition for you. If you leave now, and let Newt and I live together in peace, I'll pretend this little altercation between us never happened."

"Fuck you and your proposition." Thomas spat onto the floor in disgust. "There's no way I'm leaving here without Newt; not whilst I still draw breath."

A wry smile appeared on Alby's face. "So be it." Without warning he launched himself forward. Thomas sprang to meet him on his good leg, urging himself forward. One hit, two hits, three times they clashed, before Alby feinted, avoiding Thomas' wild swing. The next moment a swift and firm foot kicked in between Thomas' legs. A flash of blackness covered his eyes as the pain brought him down to his knees. The low blow left him breathless as he dropped his crow bar to clutch his crotch. A flash of light against metal caught his eye from one side and he ducked just in time for the bat to slam against his shoulder instead of his head, slamming him to the ground.

He heard Newt scream out as he lay on the floor, his shoulder stiff and pulsating with intense pain. A bare foot appeared tauntingly in front of his face. He fluttered his eyes up to see Alby standing over him, smug victory painted over his face. A weight pushed down on his temple, a cold sensation as Alby marked where he would place the final blow. Thomas urged himself to move, but he did not have the strength, and Alby pushed down on the bat, keeping his head painfully still on the floor. He grimaced underneath the weight, fighting and drowning against the rising tide of Alby's wrath.

"You had balls Thomas I'll give you that." Thomas didn't have to see the wicked grin to know it was there, he could hear it in the voice. "At least until I kicked them back up inside you that is." A boot stomped down hard onto his shoulder, making him yell out in pain as it held him down. Then the coldness of the bat left his face, and he closed his eyes and braced himself for the end.

It wasn't supposed to go this way. He had left so many people behind, never to see again. Never able to say goodbye too. He thought of his sister Teresa in her wedding dress, surrounded by confetti and cheers. Next to her her husband held her pregnant tummy protectively, a loving smile on his face. His parents' faces blurred past. His mother, a stranger, just a blur of colour. His father, two deep criticizing eyes, mocking him for his own weakness. Then there was Mr & Mrs Newton, the loving couple who made him feel like a son for the first time in years. Finally there was Newt. He pictured the blonde in his mind, clean and happy, smiling and laughing at him as they cuddled together under the blankets on a warm, lazy Sunday morning. He held onto that image as his final thought. 

"What are you doing? Get off me!" Alby finished in a strangled gargle, and the final blow never came. The foot holding him down disappeared  and Thomas opened his eyes to see two shadows struggling on the wall. He sat up groggily to the sounds of the scuffle. Newt had the rope that had once held him captive wrapped around Alby's throat, and was pulling backwards with as much force as he could. Alby's eyes bulged as the rope dug into the tender skin. He had dropped his bat and was struggling with the tight rope with both of his hands, writhing around as he did. Newt's grip was firm, but he was lighter than Thomas, and was struggling to keep his footing against Alby's wrestling. Thomas didn't know where he found the strength from, but he knew Newt wouldn't be able to sustain it for long in his current condition. 

"Thomas!" Newt yelled. "The bat! Quickly I can't hold him!"

At those words Alby charged wildly backwards, ramming Newt into the wall. Newt grunted in pain, still holding on to the rope with a weakening strength. Thomas got himself back up to his feet with lightening speed. Newt had saved him, and had awarded him one last opportunity, and time was running out. He grabbed the bat and swung it full force into Alby's stomach. The man lurched forwards so hard that he flipped Newt over and onto the floor with a thud. Before Alby could recover, Thomas swung again, this time connecting with the side of his head with a sickening thunk. 

Alby hit the floor heavily, lying unconscious. Blood trickled out from his right ear, where the bat had made contact. Newt was by the limp body immediately, pressing two fingers against the neck as he searched for signs of life. Thomas stood paralyzed as the adrenaline slowly drained out of him as he realised what had transpired. It had all happened so fast, he had not had the time to think, only to act.  _I've killed him. I've killed the bastard._ He dropped the bat as if had suddenly became hellishly hot. He looked at his shaking hands that had dealt the killing blow. The hands of a murderer.  _  
_

 

 


	23. Over The Gate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys,
> 
> Sorry again for updating slowly. It's not even my best writing at the moment, which sucks even more, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I'm off camping for a week, but then I'll be home for a whole week, so I hope to use the free time and get some good writing done then. 
> 
> Thanks for your reading and your support as always. Xx

"Slim it Tommy."

Newt's soft but fervent voice drew Thomas out of his stupor. He pulled hands out of his hair that he did not remember clutching with, and let them hang loosely by his sides. Alby lay as still as stone, a look of peacefulness on his face which did not match his nature. Newt knelt beside him, his fair features a strangely calm mix of regret, pity, sadness and relief.

"Slim it?" He repeated the command once he was composed enough to find his voice. "I just killed a man and you want me to slim it?"

The thought of Alby dead was not a strange one to him. He had wished for it many times over the years; for the weight on their fragile and crumbling shoulders to disappear. Thomas hated him so much, he would have thought it a gladness to do the deed himself. But now that he had, it left him feeling sick and twisted inside. The sound of the impact still rang in his head, echoing through his own skull as if punishment for his actions.  _Is this who I truly am?_ He was not sure anymore. Never before had he imagined he could have the conviction inside him to kill. To take another life. But nonetheless, his hands gripped the handle, his arms and shoulders had swung swung, and his body braced as his eyes landed the strike. 

"I just killed a man." He whispered again, his voice ghostly; barely making it past his lips. 

"No you didn't." Newt moved his hands from Alby's neck to his wrist, the mixture of emotions Thomas had seen on his face now replaced with focused concentration. "Yes, there's a pulse." The blonde nodded to himself in self approval of his assessment. "Slow, but strong."

Thomas blinked his eyes wide open in surprise. "You mean? Are you sure?"

Newt nodded. "You're not a killer yet Tommy. He's more stubborn than I am. Can't say what the extent of the damage is, but he's defiantly breathing."

Thomas collapsed into a slumped seated position. "Never thought I'd be so happy to hear that. You'd think I'd be thrilled to have killed him after all that he's done to you. Some hero I turned out to be." 

"You're a good man Thomas. Brave and just, honest and loving." He crawled across the time-worn floor, closing the gap between them until he was sitting in Thomas' lap. "All those things make you a hero to me." When Newt brought their mouths together, Thomas melted as he let himself collapse around the other, immersing himself in the comfort and safety of what, to him, was Home. 

"What if I did?" He asked quietly when they broke apart, afraid but too curious for the answer to stop himself. "What if I had killed him with that blow? Would you still love me then?"

Newt just smiled at him. The same sweet smile he had fallen in love with time and time again, and would continue to forever into the future. "I don't think you would have been able to even if you tried. You swung with force, but not with conviction. As much as you hate him, and as dangerous as he was, you fought to incapacitate, not to kill."

Proud, but not fully content with the answer, Thomas went to repeat the question but Newt had a hand to his mouth before he could utter a word. "I know, I know, you won't be satisfied until I answer your question. So yes, if you had killed him, I would still love you." 

Thomas gently held the hand that was over his mouth in place so he could kiss each dried and scarred knuckle in turn, before resting his cheek on them. "You sure he'll be alright? Should we call an ambulance?"

"No." Newt shook his head. "No ambulance, no police, no flashing lights. I just want to go home Tommy. He'll pull through, like I said, he's stubborn. But we should leave now, I don't want to be here when he wakes up."

Not wanting to hang around himself, Thomas stood up, pulling Newt with him who immediately leaned fully into him. "Are you okay Newt? Can you walk?"

Blonde hair so dirty it looked almost brown shook itself from side to side as Newt buried himself in Thomas' shoulder. "I'm exhausted. I used up all my energy holding him back. My leg hurts so bad, and I just feel so tired." Thomas hugged Newt to him to keep him upright. The poor blonde has used up all his energy reserves in an adrenaline fueled frenzy, and had nothing left to spare. 

"Can you walk with me? Prop your bad leg on mine, and lean in, I'll get you out of here."

So like that, they made their way to the stairwell on the other side of the room. Newt hugged Thomas from the side, his right leg limp on Thomas' left, so every time Thomas stepped, Newt came with him with little effort on the blonde's part. Thomas however, strained under the weight. Newt did not weigh a lot, even less so after his days of imprisonment, but Thomas had put a lot into brawling with Alby, and every step was a struggle. He felt Newt try to help every few steps, but the activity proved to be too much, and the blonde would collapse back into Thomas. 

"Nearly there Newt, one step at a time." 

"One bloody painful step at a time you mean" Newt sat down on the bottom step as soon as they reached the stairs. Thomas looked back from whence they came, glad to see Alby still motionless on the floor. 

"I'd love to let you rest Newt, but we can't risk lurking here. There's still a ways to go to the car."

Newt sighed heavily but nodded with resigned understanding. "You go up and get the hatch open. I can drag myself up these by myself."

Thomas wasted no time. He quickly reached the top and slowly lifted the ceiling hatch open just enough for him to peep out. He half expected to find himself facing the farmer looking down at him through the barrels of a shotgun, but when no such image was conjured, he pushed the hatch door fully open until it hit the floor with a dull thud. 

"Shhhhh!" He heard Newt scold him from behind. 

"Sorry." 

He waited whilst Newt slowly ascended one step a time. Thomas' heart was racing, his insides a complete contrast to the dead silence of the night. After what had happened below, the night's calmness was eerie and disturbing. The barn doors were wide open, and all that could be seen beyond them was darkness, and shadow. He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched, that something was waiting out in the darkness, ready to pounce on him when he least expected it. It was an unnerving wait, and as soon as he saw the flash of blonde, he helped pull Newt up onto his level. 

As soon as he was up and the hatch was closed, Newt lay spread eagle on the floor, taking in deep breathes. "F-fresh air!" He declared joyfully as he sucked in as much of the outdoors as he could. "I didn't think I'd ever get to taste it again." 

"How are you feeling? We haven't got far now, just across the yard and over the gate."

Newt propped himself up on one elbow, wincing slightly at the movement. "Over?"

Thomas nodded, he distinctly remembered watching the farmer lock the front gate every night before retiring to his house of residence. Tonight was no exception. The gate was short, and it would not be worth risking the house to look for a key when they could go without it.

"Shit." Newt muttered.

"You'll be fine." Thomas encouraged him. "One step at a time. It'll be worth it. Just think of home, your parents are waiting."

"I know that. Here - lift me up." Thomas grabbed hold of Newt's outstretched arms and pulled him back up to their original hobbling position. It felt good to hold Newt so close again, and though the stale and sweaty odor that reeked from the man made him want to gag, he held on dearly. The smell became mercifully less pungent as they reached the real outdoors, and Thomas allowed himself a deep breath of the cleaner air. Newt went further, letting out a gasp of delight as he stepped over the threshold and outside for the first time in days. He drowned himself in fresh oxygen, sucking in until his chest puffed out before exhaling. Thomas laughed at the look of glee that freedom had given Newt. If the air in the barn was good, then the air carried by the wind must have tasted ten times better. 

"Careful, leave some for the rest of us." He joked for what felt like the first time in ages.

"Can you blame me?" Newt shot back, though with a grin still on his face. 

Their laughter was cut off by sudden barking, loud and fierce as the dog itself which still stood on patrol chained outside its kennel. It's cry was deep and booming, travelling across the once peaceful darkness. It's eyes were crazed, and it's mouth was frothing as it scratched its claws on the ground, trying to break free from its chains.

"Fucking dog." Thomas cursed the possessed-looking canine. "We need to go now. Head for the gate as quick as you can." He strode on without checking, pulling Newt along with him towards the locked gate. Newt cursed as he nearly tripped, but did not complain, and he quickly recovered to keep up, hissing and wincing at every step. The barking seemed to chase them, like a spotlight highlighting escaping criminals. The dirt road seemed to narrow and lengthen as they trudged along it. Newt stumbled and fell to the ground with a cry, Thomas just about caught him before he hit the floor. Crouched on one knee, he looked over to see lights turning on in the farmhouse. 

"Newt get on my back, I'll carry you the rest of the way." They were half way there, but still too far away to mess around playing at a three-legged race. Newt didn't waste any time. In seconds, Thomas was standing on shaky legs with a heavy-breathing Newt on his back. 

"Are you sure Thomas?"

"It's not far." He protested. "I can make it, just hold on tight." And with that Thomas ran, scrawled, limped, and hobbled the remaining distance to the gate. Every second more lights came on as the hound persistently howled after the intruders. Thomas imagined Alby being woken out of his unconscious state with such a racket, and hastened in launching Newt over the short wooden fence. 

"Thomas wha-?" And he was over, and all Thomas heard was an 'oomph' and a moan on the other side in the darkness. He vaulted over afterwards, not wasting a second to look over his shoulder. As his feet touched the ground again, a loud shotgun blast sounded in the air. A warning shot. Thomas was glad for the cover of darkness. 

"What the bloody hell Thomas!" Newt whispered harshly as he clutched his leg. "Throwing me like some rag doll!"

"I'm sorry!" Thomas hushed back. "But in case you hadn't noticed, there's a rather grumpy farmer behind us somewhere. I don't think he's going to invite us in for tee or coffee, now lets go!"

Newt's scowl did not relent, but he nodded and let Thomas hoist him onto his back again. "Just warn me next time okay? Could have broken my bloody leg"

_'Always has to have the last word.'_ Thomas smirked to himself. The distance to the car was a simple road crossing, and no passing vehicles bothered them so late at night. Newt let himself down and into the passenger seat with surprising speed. Thomas had just gotten himself behind the driver's wheel when a thought suddenly occurred to him. 

"The crow-bar!"

"What about it?" Newt asked dumbfounded.

"I left it down there. It's got my fingerprints all over it."

"So?" Newt quirked an eye-brow at him? "As far as I see it you committed two crimes tonight. One, breaking and entering, and two, GBH."

"Or murder." Thomas muttered solemnly. "We don't know for sure."

"Even if he does die, it would be manslaughter, which was done in self defence. And I'm sure you'll be forgiven for breaking in at the result of saving a life. Besides, you forget. We have Ava on our side."

"Don't be so sure about that."

"What do you mean?"

Thomas averted his gaze to his brake pedal. "I kinda blackmailed her into giving me this location. She came here with a squad and left empty handed, but I was sure you would be wherever Alby was. When she wouldn't divulge the location, I kinda threatened to broadcast her failure to protect you to Teresa and get it published publicly."

Newt remained silent for a few moments, and Thomas grew worried that he had done something incredibly wrong. "I know it was a bad thing to do, but I had to kno-"

"So it was Ava who I heard Alby speak to. I thought it was."

Thomas blinked twice. "You're not mad?"

Newt's laughter filled the car, leaving Thomas even more confused than before. "Ava never was good at search and rescue. Those jobs were always left to me. Bet she didn't like being blackmailed though, she's not used to that. Don't worry Tommy, you might have hurt her pride, but she'll look after us. You did what you had to do, and I for one am grateful you had the guts to do it."

"Um... your welcome?" Thomas allowed himself to feel a little better about the whole Ava situation.

"The crow-bar will help us actually." Newt carried on. "We'll need to give statements about tonight, and the weapon will put you at the scene. Once they take our accounts, and our injuries, Alby will be behind bars again."

Another shot gun fired, making them both jump. "We should go." Thomas put his car into gear and slammed his foot on the gas, making a speedy getaway as fast as he could. The sound of another bullet filled the air, and by then they had driven round a bend and over a hill. He had done it. Days of waiting, watching, hoping, and now he was on his way home, with Newt by his side. 

After a few miles of silence, Newt turned the radio on. Late nights were the time for slow songs and power ballads, and it wasn't long before it was switched off again. 

"I've got Green Day in my CD case in the glove compartment if you want. Or there's Blink 182, or Evanesce-"

"It's okay Tommy." 

Thomas drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thoughts whirring through his head in a mashed up medley, now mixed in with song lyrics from his favourite CDs. The road was straight and empty, dark and lonely. The adrenaline had long since seeped out of both of them, and he felt sore and tired all over. 

"Hey Newt? Do you think... like... we should just leave all of this be?"

Newt sat up in his chair, his eyes were half shut and red, but Thomas had caught his attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe we should just keep quiet, see what happens? I doubt Alby wants any more trouble with the law, and if we don't go after him, maybe he'll leave us alone too? That's if he even lives after what I did to him."

"I can't go missing for days and then turn up at work as if I've been on holiday. What would my team make of it? Plus there's Ava. And I don't know if I want Alby walking around free as a bird. He'd get life for sure this time, a repeat offender, or locked up for insanity at least."

"Maybe..." Thomas bit his bottom lip. "I don't know what to do, to be honest I hadn't thought about it til now. I just wanted you back."

Newt pinched him gently on the arm. Thomas glanced over to find he had his eyes closed, with his blonde hair gently leaning on the head rest. "I'm too tired to think about it all now. I'm just glad I'm with you, and that were going home."

It hadn't really hit him until now, but Newt was right. They were going home, together. He wanted to scream out with joy, he wanted to cry, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to laugh, he wanted to kiss, he wanted to do so much. But all he could do was drive.

"Newt? Can you pop in Blink please. I got a long drive to do, and I'm knackered"

'All The Small Things' filled the car, and Thomas bopped his head to the familiar beats, singing along quietly to himself as he tended to do whilst driving. Newt slept next to him, a small smile on himself, looking the angel he always did when he slept. Even when roughed up and covered in filth, he still looked beautiful to Thomas. 

"Sleep well Newt." He reached a free hand over to brush dirty locks away from resting eyes. "When you wake, you'll be home."

 

 

 

 

 


	24. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, this is kind of the last chapter! Just the epilogue to go! :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy xx

The clock had just chimed past five when Thomas finally pulled the car up to a stop. The first glimpse of reddened sun radiated over the horizon, illuminating the sky with an eerie gentleness that contrasted greatly with the mood of the car. Thomas could not recall the last decent sleep he had gotten, and the journey home, though straight-forward, had been arduous on his tired eyes, Newt had soon given himself up to exhaustion after their escape, leaving Thomas in a near-silent world of night-blurred headlights along side the occasional gear change. 

He put the handbrake on and turned the engine off, all the while fighting the need to lay his head against the headrest and shut his eyes for a well earned time out. Instead, he gently shook the slumbering Newt by the shoulder to wake him up. The shrub of blonde bobbed limply until the actions pried a slow whine and matching scowl as dark brown eyes flickered painfully open.

"Home sweet home Newt." Thomas replied to the irritable grunting. "Time to wake up."

"Home?" Newt concentrated his gaze out the window, looking as if he was scared to find out it was a trick, or that he would discover something that was not where it should be, something that didn't fit. His eyes scanned the vista, taking and analyzing every inch warily, searching for anything that seemed to conflict with what Thomas had said. "Home." He confirmed, the thick layer of somberness he had woken up with never leaving his voice.

Thomas nodded enthusiastically, trying to keep the mood peppy even with his own tiredness. But when he tried to put a supportive hand on the blonde's shoulder, Newt flinched away, and it hit Thomas somewhere deep inside like a hard kick to the gut.  

"Come on." He urged quietly, concealing the sadness that he felt. "Your folks are waiting for you." He got out of the car, stepping into the crisp cold morning air. It was still early in the year, and the dawning sun was not yet strong enough to warm the earth so soon  in the day. He waited for Newt to follow suit before locking his car, and lead the silent man to their front door. He understood Newt's mood. He must be feeling a hundred different emotions all at one. Pain, fear, shame, hurt, sadness, anxiety, guilt, all covered up with a stone cold front to protect himself from their effects. Thomas fished out his keys and held them out in the palm of his hand. It would be better for Newt to start things himself, on his terms, and in his own time. Newt simply stared at them blankly, with soulless eyes.

"Take them. When you're ready, open the door, and we can go in together."

The keys clinked as Newt gently plucked them from his hand. He stood still, staring at his own feel, a silent sentinel, a shadow of his former self. Whatever Alby had done to him, he had broken the man inside. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Thomas wished he had delivered the final blow. He wished he had caved in Alby's skull with the cold steel baseball bat. A small payment to pay, for all the suffering he had caused, an the damage he had dealt.

Newt had shown no sign of moving so Thomas pressed a gentle hand on the small on his back. A sign of support and affection he regularly used when walking past or behind his lover, a touch that had become so natural to both of them. Newt jolted once again at the contact and moved forward. Thomas felt the same pain inside again at the shun, but at least this time the desired effect took hold. Newt slotted the key into its hole and turned it until it clicked open, and the door swung inwards.

The hallway light was on despite the unsociable hour, and within moments a quick, soft shuffling of feet could be heard. Mrs Newton rounded the corned in white fluffy slippers, and matching robe. As soon as she saw who had returned she clasped her hands over her mouth, smothering a chokes sob. Her eyes were red,, with dark circle that competed with her son's. 

"Thank God." She whispered, running forward, she cloaked herself around her only son, clutching on for dear life, as if she feared he might slip away from her again. "My boy, my baby boy, you're home. You're safe! I thought I'd lost you." She continued to cry as she squeezed with all he might, landing kisses wherever she could. "Oh look at you! My poor boy, it's okay, you're safe now, no-one can hurt you." Newt stood motionless, his arms hung limp at his sides. Thomas noticed his fingers twitch momentarily, as if wanting to reciprocate the affection. "Mother." Was all that came out instead. 

Thomas' heart sank. Who had he brought home? An empty shell? Newt had seemed like himself during their hasty escape, fierce, determined, clear-headed. He had been... well... Newt. Now though, given time for reflection, and the protection of adrenaline having long since passed, Newt had reverted to a broken, lifeless being. 

"Hannah?" A tired voice came from the top of the staircase. "What's going on?" A bleary-eyes Mr Newton emerged from the darkness of the upstairs landing. It took him a moment to process the scene before him, and then he was down at the bottom of the stairs and enveloping his reunited family in strong, stoic arms. 

"Welcome home son." Mr Newton was not one for showing emotion, but Thomas did not miss the small tears of joy that trickled down slightly wrinkled skin. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, feeling out of place in his own home as he watched the awkward reunion take place in his hallway.

"Father." Newt's monotone voice confirmed his acknowledgment of another family member welcoming him back home. Thomas wondered how Newt would have greeted him if someone else had brought him back, or if Newt had somehow escaped all by himself. Would it have been just as emotionless as it was with his parents. He dared not think. 

Hannah held her son at arms length, concern plastered all over her face. Newt's lack of interest had not gone unnoticed, nor had his multitude of injuries, dirtiness, or his distinctive damp body odour. 

"What did that monster do to you? You can tell us, you're safe now." She caught a solo tear that escaped Newt, catching it as it made its way across his filth-smeared cheek. "Newt? Sweetie? Talk to me."

Thomas cleared his throat, unable to watch anymore. "He's been through quite an ordeal. Newt? How about we get you cleaned up hm?"

"'Kay." Newt agreed meekly, and nudged gently past to make his way upstairs, leaving worried and troubled parents in his wake.

"What happened to him?" Issac asked. "What did that bastard to do to my son Thomas?" Stern words or not, Thomas could not provide an answer. He did not know for sure, Newt had said nothing about his time in imprisonment. But Thomas' own imagination painted a dark picture. 

"I don't know, he won't tell me anything. He slept the whole way here and woke up a different person. Quiet, and solitary. All I know is from what I saw when I got there. He was kept tied up underground, in darkness, with nothing but an open bucket for a toilet. That's all I can tell you for sure. But you can see he's been abused, badly, both physically and physiologically. You don't need me to tell you that." 

Hannah sobbed again, this time flinging herself over Thomas, taking him by surprise as he got pulled into an iron-grip hug. "Oh Thomas. Thank you for bringing him home to us. You're our hero." She began to fuss over him. "What happened? Look at that bruise on your face! Are you okay?"

The sound of the shower above let him know that Newt, for all his quietness, was quite capable of taking care of himself for the moment. "Pour me a hard drink, and I'll tell you everything I know." 

They retreated to the living room. The soft cushioned chairs welcomed him warmly, and Thomas felt an intense need to get some sleep. He sipped at the warm  nectar in his glass, relishing the heat it radiated in his chest. He told the Newtons everything he knew, and left nothing out. He started with his blackmailing of Ava, how he found out Alby's location at the wedding and left immediately. He told of his days and nights of observation, all on a gut feeling that Newt would be there somewhere. How he eventually found him, and his tumultuous struggle against Alby. 

"Newt saved my life. Even after all he had been through, he still had so much fight left in him. Where did it go?"

"Sometimes remembering an ordeal is much worse than actually living through it. Even worse, is facing those who you love afterwards." Mr Newton prophesied wisely. 

"I should check on him." His wife followed on, making to go upstairs. Thomas caught her by the wrist as she walked past him.

"Please, let me." She smiled bravely at him. "Okay Thomas. We'll be just down here."

"You guys should get some rest, no offense, but you look as tired as I feel. Were home now, we won't be going anywhere."

Mr Newton took off his reading glasses and set his newspaper down. "Newt will feel like he has an audience if we go upstairs, and that is the last thing he needs. Best we stay down here, at least he knows where we are if he needs us, as do you." 

Thomas nodded in agreement. The Newtons never failed to amaze him with just how perfect they were as parents. They knew exactly what was needed of then, and more importantly, knew when their absence was more beneficial than their interference. What's more, they treated him the exact same way they did their own son. It was comforting, and nothing he had ever felt before until they came into his life. 

The sound of showering had stopped a short while ago, but the hallway was still dark save for the aura of light around the ajar bathroom door. Thomas gently nudged it open. "Newt? How you getting on?"

Newt stood in the middle of the bathroom, staring darkly into the large oval mirror that  hung above the sink. To his right, the bath sat speckled with water droplets. Among those clear globules, tiny spheres of deep red decorated the water pattern in ugly smudges. The blonde's skinny and pale form was wrapped in a white cotton towel from the waist down. That too was tarnished with splotches of blood.

"It hurts." Newt's quiet voice trembled as he spoke. "It hurts so much and I can't make it stop." His torso was covered in bruises and welts. Various once healed wounds had been disturbed from washing and drying, and had bled fresh rivulets of life's liquid down pale white skin. Similar marks covered Newt's legs and arms, and the burnt skin of his hands had cracked and bled. His fingertips were chapped and raw, the cuticles of his nails permanently lined in red. Thomas wanted to gather him up in his arms and kiss all of his wounds away, but he knew Newt would repel him. He would have to go slow and gently if this was to work out. 

"Newt, why don't you go find a couple of clean towels?" He ventured softly. "I'll run you a nice warm bath, and we can wash those wounds together. I can shampoo your hair if you like, get rid of all that grime. You'll feel much better for it. Sound okay to you?"

The blonde remained where he was, staring at his beaten, frail body. Thomas began to wonder if he had even heard him at all, or if he was being pointedly ignored. He was about to ask again when Newt spoke up. "Okay." Well, one word was better than none.

"Leave that dirty towel on the floor, I'll sort it all out later." He called after the retreating blonde. Thomas began running the bath, finding the perfect temperature between hot and cold before letting the tap run at full pelt. He turned on the radio on the windowsill and tuned it until he found the soul soothing sounds of Jazz FM. He found some muscle soaking bath foam, and squeezed a generous amount under the running tap. The water was the perfect temperature, just hot enough so he could keep his hands in without scolding them to shake up a mountain of bubble foam. He was tempted to strip and get into the bath itself, Newt loved their baths together after a long day apart. But the present Newt would no doubt freak at the idea, and Thomas felt he needed to earn the man's trust once more. Newt did surprise him though by returning completely naked, save for the folded towels he was clutching to his chest. 

"Good timing." Thomas spoke with a bright grin, keeping things casual. "Water's perfect, hop in."

He had half-expected the new bath water to turn red when Newt eased himself into it, but the blood had already dried and began to scab. Newt let out a contented sigh as he emerged himself which put Thomas at ease. With just his knees and head above the water's surface, he leant his head back to rest on the edge. 

"That's it Newt, just relax." Thomas let the man be whilst he searched for some shampoo, a clear jug and a soft clean flannel. When he turned back round Newt was staring at the ceiling, turning the world around in his head no doubt. 

"I'm gonna wash your hair for ya, can you sit up?" 

Newt complied. "You don't have to mother me Tommy, I have one of those downstairs. I can do this myself you know." Nevertheless he leant his head backwards in readiness.

Thomas filled the jug with warm water and poured it over, keeping it away from Newt's face. The sound of water hitting water soothed him somewhat, alongside the jazz sounds that filtered softly through the background. "You're with people who love you now, let them take care of you. Let me take care of you."  Newt's hair hung long when wet, reaching the middle of his shoulder blades at its longest point. 

"I'm sorry Tommy." Newt mumbled almost too quiet for Thomas to hear over the sounds of water and music. 

"Sorry for what?" Thomas inquired gently. He squeeze the apple scented shampoo onto Newt's head, and began massaging it down and into the roots, slowly working his way from the top to the bottom of Newt's scalp. 

"When I was tied up... Alby... he did... things to me. Things I didn't want him to do... but I- I couldn't stop him. Things I only ever wanted to do with you." Newt closed his eyes tight. Thomas had the bottle in his hands for more shampoo, he squeezed it with all his might and the liquid came shooting out onto the bathroom floor.

"I knew it. He raped you." The words burnt his tongue as he said them. 

"Tommy I'm sorry, I-"

"Never!" Thomas said a little too loudly, and Newt recoiled from his head massage. "Never say that you are sorry for anything he did to you. It's not your fault Newt, none of it was. I'm the one whose sorry. I failed to protect you, you shouldn't have to have gone through what you did. I -"

He couldn't carry on. Words failed him as he imagined a vicious and snarling Alby looming over a defenseless and tied up Newt in the dark and gloomy basement area. A soft soapy hand brought him out of his dark thoughts, gentle against his cheek.

"You saved me Tommy. Thank you."

They carried on bathing in silence, neither quite sure how they felt, or what to say. Both traumatized and hurting, both eerily content in themselves and with each other. Thought Newt's eyes were still shy of their usual spark. Thomas washed and tended to every wound on Newt's skin as gently as he could, and by the time he wad done the water was not red, but a murky brown colour. He found Newt's pajamas and in them Newt looked almost himself again aside from the numerous cuts and gashes, but they were now at least clean. The dispirited eyes however, still remained. 

"Would you like me to sleep downstairs tonight?" Thomas hated the idea, but he had to allow Newt the choice. The blonde lay in their bed, hugging one of the pillows close to his chest. 

"No." He said after a moments consideration. "I would like you by my side. I think, I would feel safe then."

The words were too unsure for Thomas' likeness, but he was glad Newt wasn't shutting him out completely. That he was trying. He quickly showered whilst Newt said goodnight to his parents, and climbed into his side of the bed next to Newt.

"I'm gonna be right here. If you want to cuddle, don't ask, just do it. If you want me to leave at any point, don't lay and worry about it, just ask. Whatever you need, just ask okay?" 

Newt's eyes were already closed and his breathing had already become heavy. For the first time in an eternity, he looked so peaceful to Thomas lying there in the rising light of the morning. "You're the best Tommy." He murmured, his soft lips moving ever so slightly as he spoke. "Never forget that I do love you. Always."

Thomas smiled, his heart lifting to the heavens. It wouldn't be easy, it wouldn't all become perfect in a day, but as long as they had each other, he knew that it didn't matter. Thomas feel asleep soon after, and for the first time in years, he didn't dream. No nightmares, no visions, just the sweet peace of darkness. When he woke up, the sun was high in the sky, and Newt's head was resting on his chest, with one arm hugging tightly around his waist. From the kitchen came the familiar sweet smells of Mrs Newton's cooking, and Newt's gentle breathing filled Thomas' ears. 

Thomas smiled, and let himself drift back of to sleep once more. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epi should explain a few things and tie up some loose ends. But if you have any BURNING questions, just say and I'll do my darndest to make sure it all gets answered in the epilogue. Unless I don't want you to know of course >:D xx


	25. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay sorry again for taking so long on this, I kept putting it off, not entirely wanting to say goodbye. However, everything must end, and so must this. 
> 
> I've kept it short, not wanting to overwork it, and I know I have left it very open, but that's how I wanted to finish it. Not everything is dealt with, not everything is tied up with a ribbon, but the future has been set for our boys. A promising one, I'm sure.
> 
> I want to thank you all for reading all of this, and for all of your lovely comments and support the whole way through, I never expected it to go on for this long, or for my writing to be so greatly received as it has been. Looking back, this is a long bloody fic, and I am so grateful to all of you who have read it til the end.
> 
> Again, as I said I have left it pretty open, so you can imagine their future as you want to. But if you are left unsatisfied, do message me or tweet me and I'll try and appease your appetite. 
> 
> I left Newt pretty much out of the epilogue. Mainly because he has been the centre of the story for a huge chunk of it, despite it being from Thomas' point of view. And I love the relationship between Thomas and Hannah, so I wanted to highlight it's importance. 
> 
> Thank you all once again, and I hope this ending doesn't leave you too unsatisfied.

Ava breathed heavily, her shoulder hurt from the act, but it had been quick and was now done. Thomas' phone call had convinced her that Alby was, if not dead, then in a seriously delirious state. That had been exactly how she found him. He had managed to make it up the stairs and to the upper floor of the barn, where he lay slumped on the floor, breathing lightly, with a vacant look in his eyes.

"Newt?" He had whispered harshly when she entered, making her jump. "Newt have you come back to me? Please Newt, come here, come to me. We can be together again." She had felt pity for the desperate man, his obsession with Newt knew no bounds, an obsession that had warped him into a monster. A monster that had to be dealt with, whatever the cost. 

She had walked smoothly past him and descended down the open trap door. She soon found the baseball bat in a pool of congealing blood. She guessed a DNA sampling would come back positive for both Alby and Thomas. She would have to seal this place for good, concrete over the trap door would do the job well enough. She picked up the bat and made her way back to the weakened man, her heels echoing with each step. She stood over him with a weird sense of power and justice running through her veins.

Alby turned his head when her shadow blocked the sun from his face. His eyes flickered with sudden fear when he saw her.

"Where...is...Newt?" Were his last words.

"You will never hurt him again." She had spat. She brought the bat down on his skull once, twice, three times. Each time a sickening sound had made her stomach churn as blood splattered over the surrounding straw and her legs and feet. He yelled out at the first hit, silent by the second, and the third did no more but cave his skull in even further. 

Now she stood leaning on the murder weapon, strands of grey hair that had fallen out of her neat bun sat plastered to her face. Using the last of her strength, she rolled the corpse along the floor, and pushed it down the open chute. She closed and locked the door and sat on it. The job was done. She would come back later and seal the below cellar, burying the body and any evidence connecting herself, Newt or Thomas. It was the right thing to do, Alby would forever plague their lives if left alive, it had been the right thing to do.

Ava Paige would tell herself those same words for the rest of her life.

* * *

 

Sat on the edge of his double bed, Thomas twiddled the small gold trimmed black box around in his hands. The patterned movement mesmerized him into a world of memories as his mind replayed a medley of the last few weeks. They had both been through so much, especially Newt, and had barely made it out the other side in one piece.

The first night back home, for once in a long time Thomas had slept without the hounding sounds of haunted images and twisted thoughts. Instead however, he had been woken up by the writhing body beside him. His own nightmares had ceased, whilst Newt's were only beginning. The blonde tossed and turned, flailing his arms out as he called out against whatever he was dreaming, waking Thomas up in the process. Each time Thomas would hold Newt close, offering soothing sounds and a gentle back rub as he held the dreaming body still in his grasp. Newt never woke up, he would simply quieten and eventually go still, his whines and murmurs turning into gentle breathing, tickling Thomas' neck.

The following morning he left a peaceful looking Newt, bathed in golden sunlight that reflected in each and every scar and wound, to contact Minho and Ava. He couldn't face speaking to his sister. After his antics at her wedding, he felt she deserved their first conversation to be face to face rather than over the phone. Plus, he did not know how much she already knew, and did not want to worry her anymore on her honeymoon. Besides, they were due home in a few days, she would get the whole story from him then. The thought of contacting his parents did not even cross his mind. Instead, he retailed the rescue mission to a very relieved Minho, and a thankful, and very shameful sounding Ava.

She obviously felt that she had failed Newt, and he did not envy her for that. He felt bad enough for allowing events to escalate so radically, and for letting Newt get taken in the first place. But at least he had been able to go and put things right, whilst Ava had almost doomed Newt to a life of imprisonment and abuse. Thomas shared with Ava his concerns regarding the future, and what would become of Alby. The last time he saw the man he was stirring on the floor after Thomas had whacked him over the head with a baseball bat. He wasn't even sure if Alby was alive, or in a fit state, but he didn't want him coming after Newt again. He wanted it to be over, for good. 

"Don't worry about Alby, Thomas. I will deal with him." Ava had replied in a stern voice of conviction which had left Thomas strangely just as anxious as he was before. The following day she called back with the news. She had found Alby where Thomas had left him, dead. The news struck Thomas hard, he had taken a life. It left him feeling a strange mix if guilt and gladness. Ava ensured him that the body had been disposed of, and nothing more would come from it. 

The box slipped out of his loose grip, tumbling from his fingertips. It popped open as it landed on the soft rug that surrounded their bed. Embedded in a glittering velvet foam, a simple gold ring stood out proudly as it caught the light of the afternoon sun, shimmering in its splendor. Engraved on the band in small writing was the initials TG and IN, and an infinity sign had been etched between the two sets of initials.

He had rushed out at the first chance he got after returning home, eager to show Newt a new future of love and stability that they could now share together; a chance for them to start anew. Since then the box had stayed hidden in his sock drawer, only to be taken out when he felt the need to run through his mind and collect his thoughts. He plucked up the box and stroked the ring with a calloused thumb, feeling the smoothness of the cold metal. 

Thomas wasn't sure when, or why the sudden need to marry Newt overcame him. They had discussed it in the past, but neither had seen it as a necessity, or even something that they wanted to go through. Maybe it was the idea of making a fresh start. Of putting the past behind them and moving on together on a road that was as smooth as the ring itself, bound together for eternity. But if that was the case, then why was he so god damn scared to ask Newt?

Deep down he knew the answer; Newt was no longer the same person he once was. Thomas could see him try everyday, but Newt had become more reclusive, solemn and quiet. Thomas tried to carry on as before, but Newt would flinch at every uninvited touch. Any casual banter or jokes Thomas used to lighten the mood would fail to even phased the blonde, and any rare smile that did occur never reached his eyes. Newt's eyes, They hurt Thomas the most. The spark had all but vanished, leaving a dim soulless set of deep brown void of any meaning or emotions except sadness, and fear. 

They still slept in the same bed, and Newt still clung to his side in his vulnerable state of unconsciousness, when nightmares could attack him. It gave Thomas a weird sense of relief, that deep down, Newt still needed him, wanted him, and that he was the only one who could give him the sense of security and protection. But at the same time, he wished he could make the nightmares vanish entirely. 

Thomas knew what it was to have those nightmares. To relive what you wished would never happen again every single night. His own nightmares may have stopped, but Newt's were only beginning. Deep scares set within his memory that hopefully time would eventually heal. Until then, it was all Thomas could do to support Newt as best he could. He had tried to get Newt to talk about them, but the blonde would shut down every time, blocking him out. So instead he kept his silent guard during the night, with open arms ready for when they were needed. 

"What if he says no?" He asked the ring quietly. "What if I scare him away? What if it makes things even worse?" The sudden idea of marriage might be too much for the traumatized blonde to deal with. Newt couldn't even stand being touched, and spent most of his time in his bed, the thought of a wedding was probably the last thing he would want. Thomas could end up pushing him even further away.

"He won't." 

Thomas nearly dropped the jewellery box again as the sudden voice made him jump up and out of his skin. He whirled around to find Hannah looking at him with a fond expression from where she leant against the door frame. 

"Mrs.N!" Thomas exclaimed. "You sure know how to sneak up on people. Where's Newt?"

She shuffled into the room in her stealth slippers, treading silently across soft carpet. She sat down on the bed and patted the space next to her, commanding him to sit. 

"I've sent him out for some more eggs."

"Alone?"

She nodded. "Fresh air will do him some good. It's only a small task, but I think the independence will encourage him. 

Thomas hummed in agreement. He was very grateful to the Newtons, he did not think he would have coped so well on his own. Mr Newton had stayed a couple of days after his son's return, but had to regretfully return home to return to work. Thomas had also had to quickly return to work, re-opening The Homestead to make up for days of lost custom. It was nearing the end of the week, and Thomas was ever thankful for Mrs Newton for remaining by her sons side when he could not be there. She had kept Newt occupied with menial tasks, keeping him out of his bed and focused on doing something, anything to keep his mind from stewing in the dark.

Today's task was making a welcome back cake for Teresa and Minho, who were due back in the country the following morning. Thomas knew Newt was dreading seeing them after so long, and with so much happening. Thomas had already warned Minho not to bother Newt with what had happened, the last thing the blonde would want is an interrogation, and he knew what his journalist of a sister could be like. Spending time making something creative towards the even might help ease Newt's mind a bit, at least, that's what he guessed Hannah was hoping. 

"So?" She asked with obvious anticipation, bringing Thomas out of his thinking. He sighed, knowing he had been fumbled. "When are you going to pop the question?" 

"I..uh... dunno yet." He answered hesitantly. Now he wasn't the only one who knew about the ring, he had lost the luxury of being able to hide it and forget about the whole prospect. That had now been whipped out from beneath him like a plush soft rug, leaving him standing on stark, uncomfortable wood planks.

"What do you mean? You have the ring, surely you have a plan?" 

He ducked his head, looked down at the floor between his knees. "I did. But now I'm not so sure that it's the right thing to do. I mean, what if it scares him? What if he says no and it becomes awkward between us? I couldn't stand that."

"Thomas." She said in her stern mother voice. "Too many 'what ifs' and you'll drive yourself insane. What if Newt never walked into your shop for a coffee all those years ago? What if you believed Ava when she told you Alby didn't have Newt? That kind of thinking sends you down a dark path that hasn't even been paved." She paused to let her words sink in.

"Newt loves you Thomas. Yes, he's scared, and hurt, and broken, but that makes the fact no less true. He trusts you, and he needs you as much as you need him, even if he doesn't come right out and say so. So ask him, he won't refuse you."

Thomas smiled at the woman who quickly became his favourite woman in his life besides his sister. 

"Thanks Mrs.N." He whispered, still stroking the ring.

The sound of the front door shutting echoed up the stairs, announcing the blonde's return.

"Home." The solemn voice crept up to them. Thomas snapped the box shut and hid it back in its lair among his balled up socks.

"It's a beautiful ring Thomas." Hannah whispered her approval. "Please, use it and give my son the happiness he deserves."

Thomas smiled as he heard the footsteps of the man he loved approaching up the stairs.

"I promise."

 

 


	26. Beginnings of Recovery.

Hi guys,

Sorry to confuse you, but I'm back and would like to write some one shots for this story. So if there's any part of Thomas and Newt's future together you would like me to write about for this little world I created, then please comment below and I will create a new story called "Road to Recovery." Thank you all for your support as usual, and I look forward to writing some new additions to this tale. 

The Peddler

@apeddle90

**Author's Note:**

> So we've jumped forward 4 years... a lot has happened, and not all smooth sailing!  
> Hope it was okay for a first chapter, just to set the scene really, and let you guys know I haven't forgotten about it.  
> Also, say hello to new characters!  
> I thought it fitting to use Harriet and Sonya as the Scorch Trials has just finished filming ;P  
> And Darnell because I could okay? :)


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